sleep revelations

i slept. like the dead, like a rock, like as close to sleeping and not ever waking up again that you can get – and still wake up. at 7 adam woke and i got up with him, and eric got out of bed and said i could go back to sleep. i threw off the worry of residual guilt and the inherent have-to-do-everything-or-suffer-guilt strings and just went back to bed.

for three and a half hours i was completely unconscious in the most meaningful way. i feel like that entire time, my subconscious was working through every little and big preoccupation i’ve avoided in waking and sleeping hours.

dreamt i was a spy, dreamt heather was living at my mom’s and answered the phone when i called, i wasn’t expecting it. dreamt a million other things i don’t remember. woke at ten-thirty, flat on my back, arms folded across my chest like in the coffin, and felt like i’d just been unplugged from whatever vein to the universe pumps in the feelings of smallness and significance and simplicity and general enlightenment that can only be garnered when licking the iceberg.

i can’t avoid missing my sister and feeling cheated and dumped by her, by trying to manage and maintain everyone else’s feelings and brains and moods and therefore avoiding thoughts about my own. i can’t control the chaos of the universe by creating order in housework – no one i love judges me by the state of my domestic self and i won’t feel anymore in control with a spotless house.

at some point i have to breathe.


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