I miss the days when I used to be able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Ah, the good old days. The days of waking up, eating cereal, watching cartoons and playing outside all day long. You know what I’m talking about. The days you played so hard, you had no choice but to succumb to the sweetest of slumbers.
My, how time and circumstances change. I’d do almost anything to be that carefree again. Now, I’m worried about what tomorrow holds. I’m scared of the bumps in the night in a way that I never thought possible. It feels as though the weight of the world is on my shoulders. All the time. That in itself should be exhausting. And in a way, it is. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming I curl up under my covers and hide from it. But I don’t really sleep. It’s a restless slumber, fraught with everything that could go wrong. I awake even more exhausted than I was before. How is that possible?
This journey I’m on seems never ending. The journey of self-discovery is always such, because your “self” is always changing and adapting to the here and now. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to sleep? Maybe if I try to not anticipate what the future holds and just embrace it instead things would be different. Maybe I would finally be allowed the sleep of the rested.
It’s worth a try. Here goes nothin’.