It’s 05.09, I woke up thirty minutes ago. For a few days now I have been able to manage six hours of unbroken continuous sleep. I think this is good. I think this is my limit, with the eight hours a night during lockdown a fluke and the nights of severely broken snatches of sleep a sign of total hormone disruption. It no longer stresses me out.
As part of my new volunteer role I have to introduce myself, say something interesting and give my motivations for being a volunteer. I usually freeze when I meet new people or have to do this and I do not know why. I am an extremely confident communicator in all matters except myself so the dreaded interesting icebreaker sends me into a panic.
When you are ill life is all about boxes and labels. Some are for diagnosis; some for medication, therapy, capability etc. My blog is the only place I have that has no label. It is not for information, for a continuous storyline or your entertainment. It is a place to help me understand myself through the art of writing.
I think one of my biggest fears was/is that strangers would want to read my writing and judge me negatively, so, although I can proudly introduce myself as a writer or blogger I also prepare to say no. “No, you cannot read it as it is private, however I can help you create your own if you like.” I am new to the power of saying no but no I must until I am ready. Helen taught me this and I can confidently say it whilst breathing out the nervous butterflies.
On a zoom meet up last night I develop my response further and a whole new narrative espoused. I introduced myself as a writer who each morning wrote up their dreams and I told the group that I did this not only because they made fascinating stories but also as I am grateful for having reached REM sleep. The proverbial lightbulb lit up.
I began this blog as I had life-shattering insomnia and had recently begun medication that induced night terrors. I wanted to document my experiences so that anyone who needed reassurance for their own painful existence could find it. This is the same reason I volunteer, so that anyone who needs help or a friendly ear can have one.
By the end of the zoom chat I knew something had changed and I felt extremely confident. I now had something interesting to say about myself without feeling exposed and vulnerable and my motivations are clear.
I can talk about grief, mental health, mindfulness, creating, crafting, storytelling, shit poetry attempts, endometriosis, undiagnosis, insomnia, loneliness or Carl Jung’s dream key anytime – but; do you remember the dream with the publishers? Those Angels were absolutely right. I could write a book about my dreams and who knows, maybe someday I will. Until then I will keep sharing my experiences and continue to write up my dreams until they come true.