Too Much of Me

It’s 5:30 AM, and the house is quiet- except for Dana’s occasional toss, turn, or snore. I am trying to decide what I want to do next, because I have to keep myself busy until the appropriate time for me to go to bed. Lately, I’ve found that it keeps my schedule sane if I sleep right up until I have to get to work, because that’s what you do in the morning. I wind down between noon and 1:00 PM, and wake up somewhere between 8:00-10:00. It’s not the best schedule I’ve ever had, but I am more used to it than when I started. Apparently, flipping my schedule around so that I’m up all night is more me than I thought previously. However, it does feed my dark side, and I’ve had to become conscious of it.

For instance, I feel like I’m a lot more snappish, because the rest I’m getting is not as deep. I am a lot more isolated, because the only people I see regularly are my coworkers and Dana. I am not available when the rest of my friends are, and when I make allowances to be available to them, I am either exhausted at work or fall asleep in front of God and everybody. So far, I have fallen asleep at a night club and at an Indian restaurant. It’s okay, though. People just assume I’m drunk and that someone will eventually take me home.

It is good that I have an online life in which I create content for the web rather than consume it. There hasn’t been a better outlet than writing during this graveyard shift because it’s something I do where I do not need or want interaction with other people. I do not have to carve out alone time to create this web site. I have built-in swaths of time where I don’t have to ask anyone to leave me alone so I can spend time in my head (with my head?).

My writing is becoming more important to me after having to put it away for a while. Writing about my childhood took a lot out of me, and it gave me some fear about blogging… but not for the reasons you might think. Blogging has a singular subject, which is you, the author. Many people write professional blogs, but that’s not how the medium started. The medium started with the idea that all our stories matter, and we should have a place to put them.

The struggle for me is not dealing with others emotions when they read what I’ve written. It’s gathering the strength to get my words out of me in the first place. I have a separation regarding what I write and what you read, because I know so well what I’ve written and what it cost me that anything you say in reaction is not going to have a tenth of the emotion that I had myself before I hit “post.”

I don’t shut down posting when I’ve had too much of you. I shut down posting when I’ve had too much of me.

Does that ever happen to you? I get lost in my own version of myself when I’m processing, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am exhausting. If I had me as a friend, my role would be the one to tell me to shut up and enjoy the moment.

Not blogging is shutting up and enjoying the moment. I have to take a break between digging really deep into the past and preparing for my future. I tend to write about things that happened a long time ago for two reasons.

The first is that I am of the age where knowing how you got hurt way back when gives you better strategy for dealing with emotions right here and now. The second is that I have to have some distance from a memory before I can describe it in detail. The present goes by so fast that I cannot live it and reflect on it simultaneously… although I did like Dmetri Martin’s joke about liking digital cameras because it makes it possible to reminisce immediately.

My blog is always going to be months and years behind what is currently happening, which is the best reason I know to get together in person…

Until I fall asleep.

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