It is not a time that I ever intend to get up...it is apparently the time my subconscious does its best analysis. And I so wish it wouldn’t. Like what is wrong with 7 am? Or noon? Or seriously any other time that is not 2 am?
FUCK!
I have a crazy weekend and I didn’t go out last night because I just needed to feel like I had some down time this weekend. I will be in my car, like the whole weekend, so it doesn’t really makes sense that I went for a drive last night but I didn’t drive to an activity, I just drove away, up into the mountains and got lost on the landscape of the wild. Top down, music blaring, and I forgot about it all for a little while.
What is it all?
Well, my psyche could give you an amazing dissertation on that subject, but apparently, only at 2 am.
I really do not understand myself. I mean, I go to bed fine. I am not overtly worried about something. I am not overly stressed or upset or anything. And I sleep, well. Until 2 am rolls around and then I am snapped to attention by some niggling feeling that makes it way from the dark recesses of my mind to the forefront, and while it invades and ruins my slumber, I am called forth to consciousness and I am never, ever happy about it.
What is most odd is that I can feel it coming likely at about 1 am. My sleep disrupts and my dreams and whatever altered mental state I am in begins to be called forth and into this other realm where I will wake up, disturbed.
And so it was today...not a new thought or thought pattern. In fact, one I have revisited so many fucking times that I am frankly quite sick of it. And so this morning at 2 am when it landed in my head and would not leave, even though I tried very stubbornly to pretend I didn’t think it, or see it, or entertain it. It persisted, even as I kept my eyes tightly shut, as if that was some defense.
I am not sure all people feel like their is a place inside their minds that want to irritate, vex, annoy, and sometimes kill them. But I have that space, and years of recovery and therapy have done not a fucking thing to irradicate its existence. I think, at best, we have reclaimed some territory but 2 am still stubbornly and persistently belongs to whatever the fuck this is. The bewitching hour, the demon show. I don’t have a name for it but perhaps I should...
Wow, that was a scary deep dive. You will be amazed at what you find if you google “2 am anxiety.” I now know that I am not alone, 2 am is slang for hooking up with someone less than stellar because your choices have basically whittled down to that. But no one has come up with an actual name for the concept that you can be sleeping soundly without a care in the world, until 2 fucking am hits and then it is just game, fucking, on.
I will name it. I am just too tired at the moment to be that clever.
I kind of feel like this would be the time the Wild Things played, like they would be the kind of characters, waking others up with their mad rumpusing and what not. They would be winding down about this time so it would seem to me. But that doesn’t really work either because I am not up partying like it is 1999, I am asleep and then am conjured forth for reasons that remain completely and totally out of my conscious mind. And while the Wild Thing Hour, seems fitting in some ways, it doesn’t really get me there. Again, I am fucking tired and pissed off that I am awake...
And as soon as I surrender to the fact that I am now awake, stumble to the kitchen for coffee, the panic is over, the mind fuckery done. I am not overtly worried, anxious or even upset. I am just fucking awake which almost feels worse. Most especially on days where I am going to be trudging hard all day with little rest.
Was it the fact I went to be early? No, it happens regardless of the bed timing. I have gone to bed at 11 pm and woke up at 2 am paralyzed with angst, fear, dread but mostly thoughts. So many thoughts coming at me like I am standing on some sort of thought freeway and thoughts are being hurled at me 100 miles an hour. There is no rhyme or reason to the thoughts, although they generally have a theme: love issue, work issue, relationship issue, money issue. And they always have the element of me attempting to resolve that which feels irresolveable. Like the thoughts just combat each other in some sort of hand to mind combat. I think one thing, then another completely contrary thought invades which brings on a whole other host of thoughts to countermand that last one. And so it goes, until I finally give in and just get the fuck up.
And there is something in the surrender...because as soon as I succumb to the idea, the mind’s insistence to no longer be prone and idle, it evaporates like rain hitting a scorching pavement. Away all the thoughts go, and I am left there, reeling from the experience, now awake, in some varied state of pissed off and knowing that while there are likely others awake currently, I am not able to call them, mostly because I have no idea who and where they are...believe me, if I thought you were fucking up, I would fucking call. Misery loves company, most especially at 2 am.
I am thinking perhaps the 2 am time bomb is a good moniker. I mean, that it is what it is...but that fails to communicate the slickness of it, its stealthy component, like how the fuck did it get there to begin with? I mean, I was fucking sleeping! I went to bed fine. And peaceful and had absolutely no trouble at all falling asleep, and it feels so gigantically unfair to now be awake, plagued with rapid fire thoughts that come at me like some sort of axe throwing event.
In my tired and frustrated state, I can see that I am NOT going to be able to come up with a suitable name for this phenomena. So like everything else today, I am just going to have to surrender to while it remains nameless, it is no less real because it lacks an apt descriptor...
2 AM Terrors?
2 AM Terrorist?
2 AM Tremors?
2 AM Torture?
2 AM Axe Juggling?
Fuck, I don’t know. I will let you know when it lands. And know as I type this that it will likely land on some other morning at 2 am while you sleep peacefully and well through the night...and I will be over here all awake and clever naming this shitstorm something funny and apropos. Until then, you get the mad ramblings like this. Angry, exhaustion fueled tirades from someone who needed more sleep but was refused by the interior of her own fucking head.
Again.
Still.
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