It was a really hard night to get to sleep. Wrinkles in the sheets, no matter how often I pulled on them. Hair in my face, no matter how often I moved it. Itchy feet. Annoyed legs. Pinned into a small space when my dog wanted to get close. Hard pillow. Too many thoughts. Dry hands. Itchy ears. And finally the gravol kicked in, and I was asleep.
I just about slept through the night, which is almost unheard of lately. Wake up. Keep my eyes closed. Try to access how bad the shocking in my head is going to be today… will over stimulation from my environment make the dizziness impossible to deal with? But no. It is bad, but I can open my eyes.
Get dressed. Clean up. Get breakfast. Sit down. Doing okay. Look down. Wires in a tangled mess… that is what happens when I can’t leave the couch. Too many wires. Falling apart. Disconnect, and use the tablet. Find some calm.
Husband is home. Cleaning out the freezer. Trying to replace the seal. Being quiet. Wish I could do more. Strong smell of cleaner comes towards me. Zapping increases. Nose hurts. Sick. Dizzy. “You know that is supposed to be diluted, right?” Walk away. He is working. I am not.
Newspapers spread out on the floor. Block them out. Couch cushions sliding underneath me. Get up, and fix them for the fifth time in an hour. Socks twisted, knock them off. Clothes twisted. Straighten them. More, and more shocks. Please make this stop.
Walk to the bedroom. Laundry basket full of clothes on the bed. Clean clothes? Dirty clothes? What are they doing there. “They are clean. I just took them off the line. I will deal with them later.” Block it out. Lie down on the couch. Lose myself in Pinterest – but the dizziness is too much, and I still see everything.
Cover my nose. The smells are too strong. Focus on the computer. The sights are too much. Pans being moved… zaps in my head. Too much. Too much. Please make it stop!
Cloths in a basket on the couch. “I don’t know where these go.” Anger. Irritation. Frustration. Leave them on the line. I didn’t forget to do the laundry – it isn’t the right day. “Please don’t wash the sheets. I need them done a certain way, or I won’t be able to sleep.” “Okay!?!”
Back to the bedroom. Clean clothes unfolded in a basket on the floor. Back to the couch. Curl up. Cover my ears and eyes. Fetal position. Remembering my mom used to sleep in her walk in closet. Wish I had a walk in closet. Tears. Pain. Shaking. Dizzy. Shocks.
The world is all too much for me.