Morning blues

Sleep, when it eludes you, is bloody troublesome, especially when there is no good reason for it.

Now, usually a muscle relaxant is my golden ticket to being knocked cold and waking up like I've had the best sleep in years, but that there was no reward tonight was made the worser because I have been so disciplined about weaning myself from it. I haven't popped a pill for forever now, and the one time I truly need it, it refuses to kick in, to say nothing of its taking twice as long to even attempt at unknotting away some tension.

When finally it cloaked in, my sleep was shortlived, and two hours later I found myself, eyes wide opened in the dark, wondering what the hell I was doing awake. It isn't at all amusing feeling every bone in your body cry for rest while your mind is as sharp as a knife.

There is thirty minutes of grabbing fruitlessly at slumber, then another hour trying to tire yourself out on Sudoku, but what fun is that if even after, your body doesn't decide to demonstrate every sign of stress you are ever inclined to experience.

As a child, stress would guarantee an asthma attack. I haven't had one in years, outgrowing that to make room for newer symptoms of incredible muscle tension and gastric episodes. Of course no suffering is complete without having have experienced wanting to puke your guts out. Excuse me then if I'm grouchy because having your chest tighten as your breath's cut short from painful wheezing, while your stomach churns and churns, as you're plagued with insistent nausea all the same one time, isn't my idea of a relaxing holiday snooze. The fact that my brain calmly recognizes this while my body goes into overdrive from a will of its own is not lost on me. If anything, having no reason so I can systematically resolve the issue is only making the stress worse.

Seriously, sometimes your body is such an inconvenience, and I'm already dreading how I will pay for its insubordination later.