search soleil (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
searchsoleil) wrote2009-02-27 08:03 am
searchsoleil) wrote2009-02-27 08:03 am
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If only one could flounce away from real life like Arthur is flouncing away in this icon.
RL rant in the next few paragraphs, FList. Run while you can.
So, I found out last Tuesday that my oldest friend's mother had died, and instead of feeling grieved in any measurable, healthy way, I promptly stopped sleeping. This went on in a pretty intense and stubborn manner until the funeral this Monday, which I skipped classes for, during which I had a good cry and after which I hugged my parents and came back to school and slept for eight deep hours, and then had one blissful day of relative normalcy before Wednesday, when my body decided to expel all of its repressed confusion and grief in the form of a violent stomach virus, and then, after 24 hours of sickness and delirium (when I should have been in class, making up what I missed on Monday), I woke up feeling mostly better except that I was suddenly, once again, apparently unable to sleep.
I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate that death happens to good people, to people I love, and that my body is such a psychosomatic bitchface, and that I can't help but selfishly despair over the fact that this all happened a week before midterm season, and how I am in no way prepared to deal with all this except to loose my directionless fear and rage into the wilds of the Intranets in the early morning when I should be dead to the world and am instead far, far too alive to it.
So, I found out last Tuesday that my oldest friend's mother had died, and instead of feeling grieved in any measurable, healthy way, I promptly stopped sleeping. This went on in a pretty intense and stubborn manner until the funeral this Monday, which I skipped classes for, during which I had a good cry and after which I hugged my parents and came back to school and slept for eight deep hours, and then had one blissful day of relative normalcy before Wednesday, when my body decided to expel all of its repressed confusion and grief in the form of a violent stomach virus, and then, after 24 hours of sickness and delirium (when I should have been in class, making up what I missed on Monday), I woke up feeling mostly better except that I was suddenly, once again, apparently unable to sleep.
I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate that death happens to good people, to people I love, and that my body is such a psychosomatic bitchface, and that I can't help but selfishly despair over the fact that this all happened a week before midterm season, and how I am in no way prepared to deal with all this except to loose my directionless fear and rage into the wilds of the Intranets in the early morning when I should be dead to the world and am instead far, far too alive to it.
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But really, &hearts. If you don't mind a silly advice from fellow psychosomatic body bitchface owner, could you maybe make yourself cry? Watch the angstiest movie, read Fried green tomatoes - crying, even procured, often lets one vent some of that painful energy, and, for example, sleep a bit. &hearts
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Have you tried OTC sleeping pills? I didn't sleep for like three months earlier this year and they're kinda a godsend, at least if you use them sparingly and just to gain functionality for awhile. You might have to rearrange your crack sleeping schedule because you'll need at least eight hours sleep in one go, but it can be an alright temporary fix at least so you're not dead for midterms.
Hope you feel better, Eli.
(Oh, btw, I'm back on LJ like I said I would be. Obviously.)