6-8-13

Wow - time got away from me.  I wrote that first entry because I have a lot to say about anxiety, and wanted to finally get it out.  So what happened?  I got busy at work.  And anxious.  And sleepless.  

I know a lot of people who deal with anxiety - just everyday people who hold jobs and go to school and run to the grocery store.  Most of my fellow worriers seem to deal with sleeplessness in some way.  Some of them toss and turn trying to fall asleep.  Others manage to get in a solid three to four hours, then wake up in the wee hours with no one to talk to and really bad tv, and then the worry wheels start to turn.  

When I was a kid I was afraid of the dark.  I needed to have the door open just enough so that the hallway light shone full on my face.  I would lie in bed watching the shadows on the walls.  I would try not to look at the Charlie McCarthy ventriloquist dummy seated on a chair across from my bed because I was sure his creepy little mouth would start moving on his own.   Worries from the day would transfer into worries about tomorrow.  It seemed that I had no choice but to worry - it was my default setting.  So as soon as I learned to read, I turned to books at night to occupy my mind until I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and it was only a short leap from awake and worry to sleep and nightmares.  Yay!

I used to grab a stack of slim paperbacks just before bed, and stash them under my pillow.  I read by that light in the hallway until my parents came up to bed, when I would shove the books under my covers and throw myself over them.  I was good at feigning sleep - work up a little drool on the pillow, slow my breathing.... no problem.  When their bedroom door closed, I pulled out the books once more.  I knew those books backward and forward.  Once I fell asleep, I slept until morning, which seems like a luxury now.  But more about that later!