In a row. One after another.

Seriously. I’m going through SERIOUS mood swings.

I think it’s related to the quitting smoking thing.

Oh yeah. I’m quitting smoking. It’s been 7 days since my last full cigarrette and 2-3 days since I ingested any nicotine at all.

So far it’s going smoothly enough. There are times when I want to smoke, sure, but it’s no big deal. I can handle it. The worst cravings, though, come after I finish a big meal… especially lunch. I think it’s one of those psychological things that may never go away… not really.

Yeah. So I’m taking Chantix, which is a prescription drug that is helping me to not smoke no more.
I’m pretty sure the drug is also what is behind my dreams. It’s causing me to dream.

[Read previous posts about how I don't dream]

I don’t really like this whole dreaming thing. I never did. It’s no good. It is Satan pathway in to your mind.

Here is what I wrote in my ThoughtBlot (TM Pending) upon waking up today:

I’ve been dreaming a lot lately. What the fuck is up with that? Tonight I explored alien ruins, fought aliens, and my dog got a cell phone.
There was much more, but I’m already getting hazy
Oh. And I was at the nude beach too.

What sense does that make to you? To me, it’s some pretty sick fucked up shit. Seriously?!?! A dog with a cell phone?

I wake up disoriented and confused and unhappy when I dream.

But anyway… the mood swings.

(Aside: I should be in bed and asleep long before now)

Yeah. So I’ve had high highs and low low low lows this weekend. Friday was pretty good, but then again, I did end up drunk and have a horrible hang-over on Saturday. Saturday would have been a near perfect day if not for the hangover. I was, I think, truly happy and exuberant that I was alive. Sunday spiraled slowly from a feeling of almost invincibleness to a feeling of utter uselessness to being jolted suddenly to a state of pure hysterical laughter, followed by a cliff-dive in to unhappiness. Monday was a bad bad day.

But today… today was Tuesday. Not mind blowingly good… not too horribly bad.

God damn! This is some of the worst goddamn soft-core porn I’ve seen in my life. I totally need to change the channel, but that would delay me from finishing this and thus from going to bed.

I need to start thinking hard about what I really want out of this whole acting thing I’ve been doing. I honestly believe that I could be good at it. I’m supposedly going to be auditioned for a super-low-budget movie being made in town, but that would be pretty far off. I know a lot of people, suddenly, in the Austin improv comedy scene. I think I could be at least decent with that too. It all depends on how I want to focus my time.
I have thinking to do, but fortunately I don’t have to make a decision just as of yet.

But for now, for a little while at least, I am classless (in the no more acting class sort of way).

Maybe I should just start my improv troupe… I already have the perfect name. I’ll find some people and it will all work out. I think the 30 or so troupes in Austin are 1 too few.

We’ll see how it goes.

At least I should hopefully get my car back tomorrow.

So, have you ever wondered why so many of my blog posts concern sleep and lack of sleep and insomnia?

Well, I’ll tell you!

See… I was supposed to be asleep now, but insomnia breeds words. It breeds thoughts that simmer and stew until they overflow and spill out.
When you’re an insomniac, sometimes time slows down and slips around and wraps in upon itself. You lose track of time passing, but you’re aware that time passes. You are still awake and aware of the world around you, but everything is filtered and warped and not really real. But it’s the sense of time that fucks with you. You lose all concept of time lying there in your insomnia cocoon. Five minutes extends to what feels like hours and hours pass in what seems like only five minutes, and the fucked up thing, is both can happen at exactly the same time creating a Escher-like paradox.

Never quite asleep, never quite awake. Sanity stretched thin as it is pulled between the twin polarities. That is the essence of insomnia.

P.S. The new new sleeping meds have stopped working.

For the last 20 years, I’ve been at war. The battles have been waged both night and day, both at home and away.

I’ve struggled for days on end, weeks at a time. I fought hard to stay sane amongst the demons that come out to torment me.

Insomnia is an evil fucking bitch.

But the battle line runs both ways.

We’ve never got along.

Sometimes, as has been happening lately, I drift in and out of consciousness, never truly asleep, never truly awake. Upon breaking out of the limbo, my eyes are always dry, red, and itchy.

Other times, I just can’t fall asleep no matter what I do. Today already, I’ve taken 2 pills. That’s 4 mgs of Lunesta running through my blood, cuddling with my brain, mixing with my essence. Creating a sleepy soupy Matt… But not nearly sleepy enough.

I know that it will be at least another 30-45 minutes before I finally succumb from exhaustion into the fragile fiberglass cocoon of sleep.

And yet other times… times that have been occurring all too frequently recently, I fall asleep and wake up only a few hours later, getting no more than 4 hours and never enough to tide me over until I have to struggle back to sleep again.

So, right now… I just want to say… SCREW YOU CLOWN! YOU WILL NOT EAT ME!

Seriously.

Enough.

I just woke up and I’m wore out. Why in the world am I dreaming so much recently?

Whatever it is, I’m officially annoyed.

I know I’ve said it before and you’re probably sick of hearing it…

But I HATE sleep. Dislike it immensely. Hell, I probably even have some amount of Hypnophobia.

But worse that sleep itself is dreaming. Dreams suck.

I’m glad I don’t have them most of the time.

Oh, and anyone who tells you that everybody dreams everynight or else they would go insane is a goddamn liar. Trust me… I know when I dream and I know when I don’t, even if I don’t remember what my dream is about.

Yeah… so sleep = teh suck.