Fresh Out

I wish I knew more about dreams and what they mean because maybe then I could make some sense about the kind of insane week I've been having whilst sleeping. If I didn't know any better I would assume I had taken five hits of acid and then tried to take a little nap; or better yet, taken anti-malaria pills again because holy shit those were some crazy dreams that week in Africa and the three weeks prior. This morning I had a dream that quite literally left me in a full-body sweat. It's been a tough week, and I've been so tired every single day that getting through the entire workday is the ultimate challenge. At the very least I've had to drink four cups of coffee, sometimes even more. I was so tired yesterday morning that I put both contacts in the same eye and then couldn't figure out why I couldn't see clearly. No seriously. I ended up getting so frustrated with the complex situation that I wore my glasses to work. Today I was so tired that I put the cereal box in the fridge. This would be the moment when I'm thankful I don't have to operate machinery in order to get to and from work. The thing is, I've been getting plenty of exercise, and for the most part have been eating right, so this absolute exhaustion is completely random and uncalled for. Unless of course you factor in the stress caused by losing something you can't replace and having to start over from scratch.

I think loss causes us to do strange things and it takes its toll differently on everyone. I used to let grief manifest itself by curling up in my bed for days at a time, blaring some sort of suicidal music like Damien Rice "O" and crying until my jaw hurt. But I can't remember the last time I cried, and if you knew me three years ago I know you don't believe that statement in the very least. But I honestly can't. I guess I cried on Christmas Day when my brother announced that he's going to be a father. But those weren't actual sad tears. I feel almost as if my crying mechanism is broken. And sometimes, even when something is incredibly sad and I want to cry or feel like I should cry...I don't. I'm fresh out out of tears. I think I wasted them all in college on a dead-end relationship. I think I wasted them in the two years after college on nasty professors and rude comments about how I suck/sucked as a designer. I wasted them on good-byes and starting over and letting go and trying to pick the pieces and reconfigure them into something resembling a happy life. I think I've done a pretty good job in retrospect so in a way, this time shouldn't be any different. Except I can't figure out why it feels so totally different. I'm right back where I started and I seem to have misplaced my manual.