I think I fear going to bed.
It’s so hard to know when to go to bed, especially when you don’t have to get up early. I find getting ready for bed takes forever – sometimes brushing ones teeth feels like doing a 6 mile hike. Standing in the forever cold bathroom trying to take your mind off the repetitive brushing up and down task and attending the ablutions.
Sometimes I consider staying up for days just to avoid the dreaded sleep. It’s not that I don’t like sleep, in fact I love it and that’s part of the battle.
It takes me ages to nod off. I lie awake tossing and turning worrying about the world and how it works and whether or not I made a boob of myself today. I often consider am I living life to the max, why did I not go out today? And do I actually have any talents and where do I find them? All the usual things really. And just before I nod off I panic about the worst part of all this sleep business, will I manage to get out of bed tomorrow?
The sleep is often a deep long confusing one. My dreams merge so well with reality it trips me up. They can be freaky and weird but relate to things that are actually happening and contains people I know. I often find myself dazed when awake and suffer from deja vu as sometimes my dreams seem to predict reality.
But the worst thing of all. I can never get out of bed. When I am asleep, I can sleep for a good 16 hours at a time and feel awful for it. I do not understand how it can be so difficult to get out of bed. I easily go through at least 8 alarms on an average morning – some which I sleep through.
Sleep is hard. I’m afraid of it. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember, even my Mum used to spend ages hiding my quilt and pouring water over me to get me to school.
So I have been living with a cat for a number of weeks now. His names Dazzle and he’s a four year old rescue cat. Although I’m not exactly keen on the name, he responds to it. I’ve nicknamed him the beast, based on size and wussy personality. He is a massive scaredy cat. His previous owner was going to put him down, which is a shame as he’s a lovely cat.
The more time I spend with him – the more I realise my own cat tendencies. Easily distracted, love for fishy food, sleeping and being centre of attention the list goes on. Sat side by side it’s easy to forget which one is me and which one is the cat.
The main reason for getting a cat was for company. I get lonely and suffer from bad anxiety. I’ve read somewhere that cats are great for helping with anxiety and depression, I just never expected it to be like this. I must admit the first few days I found myself locked in the bathroom in tears. What is this beast – will he eat my face? Steal my food? Bring his cat mates over and make a mess of the house? Why do people keep cats? My anxiety was through the roof.
Now a few weeks on I’m beginning to understand how cats help anxiety. It teaches you the ability to let go. As I type he’s in the kitchen – possibly on the counters – maybe licking the clean washing up or climbing on a small shelf, I don’t know. But that’s just it. And what. I can’t control him, I just have to accept he’s doing something – possibly naughty – but I shouldn’t worry about – as long as he doesn’t hurt himself there’s not a lot else I can do. When he sits on my lap and shoves a paw on my chest I just have to accept it, yes he might scratch and bite me – but that’s life – it’s unpredictable – just like the cat.
Which reminds me – I really need to sort out his insurance!
Posted in Blog
We look with wonder
At the creatures of the past
How they spent their days
Why didn’t they last?
What would they think of us?
If only they could see,
The way we live today.
Could it have thought
In it’s wildest dreams
A world that’s full
Off human beings
The Faber Book of Beasts
A book of animal poems, often they appear silly yet meaningful, getting the imagination flowing.