The nights are dark and long.
My bebe learns to sleep for most of them these days, except, I still wake.I wake with worry, dripping in anxiety. My mind is running faster than I can keep up with, weaving in and out of thoughts I seem to cover up in the daytime. And arriving at thoughts I seem to never be able to shift, day or night.
My brain is pushing me into addressing the worries. These thoughts. It is finding every possible way to remind me to deal with them. Prodding and nudging and guiding me but adding more to the pot as I go.
The darkness of night feels so still. So quiet. So peaceful. Yet my brain is so noisy, so loud and intense.
I almost always wake for the day with a splitting headache. An ache caused by this lone nightly battle with my thoughts. Not much a fight, but more of a sacrifice, a surrendering to it all.
I go over it in the morning, as I sit in low sunrise light and try to organise my brain a little. Knowing I need to address these nightly thoughts. But feeling more fear until I quickly stuff them back in and start my day with distraction, porridge making and getting littles dressed.
Until one morning. Where I have had very little sleep. My eyes are puffy. My head is pounding with pain. My shoulders are stiff and knotted.
I need to not stuff these worries back today. I need to unpack them. I need to unravel them. I need to acknowledge them. I need to feel them.
I need to actually deal with them.
As I try to untangle them, make sense of how and what to do. What to say and how to say it. The ache in my head doubles. My chest tight and heavy. Yet another sign of how important all this is.
In the long run.
I remind myself of what they say, "it gets worse before it gets better" and "this too shall pass".
I cannot stuff this back today.
I can ignore it no longer.
