My mom used to say that a person can handle anything as long as they had a good night’s sleep. I mostly disagree with that by the way. But this morning was a rough one, and it came after a night of very little sleep.
I have been trying to make sure I sleep well at night. I have a combination of medications that I use to hopefully ensure that my eyes don’t open during the hours they should be closed in sleep. Some of those medications are prescription medicines while others are over the counter medicines. And since some are probably wondering, yes, I do take a combination of them (among other elements) in hopes of falling into a sleep so deep that nothing wakes me. I would be lying if I said there are many nights I hope that the combination I take puts me into a forever sleep. Obviously, that hasn’t happened yet.
Anyway, last night I took a typical combination of my prescription medicine and some Benadryl, assuming that would be a combination that would provide a solid night of sleep.
But that didn’t happen.
I had a horrendous night. I woke up what seemed like every hour. I played some mindless games on my phone in hopes of getting so tired that I would fall into a much needed sleep. It didn’t work. At 5:00 AM, I reached for my phone and texted my husband to see if he was awake. He responded that he was since he is in a different time zone. I don’t have anyone else to turn to right now, so as much as a text message allows, I poured my heart out to him. I told him of my difficult night and the thoughts that bombarded me throughout it. There is way too much on my mind right now. At 5:00 AM this morning, all those things crashed into a big ball of “I can’t do this anymore”. I told him that. This was a battle that was as intense as it gets. He texted words that tried to reassure me. I knew he needed to start work so I stopped texting him. I fed my cats and crawled back into bed. I was completely exhausted. I managed to get a couple hours of sleep before needing to get up to face the day. My grandson was coming and I wanted to make sure I was as presentable as possible.
The few hours with him went by way too fast. After they left, I ran a few errands and came home to face the loneliness that is all too familiar to me now. I cried as I picked up the toys that he had left scattered in the living room. I know the day is coming too soon when he won’t be here on a regular basis to scatter toys, lose the remotes, and scare my kitties.
And those thoughts tear HUGE holes in this already weary, broken heart.
As each hour passes, I am becoming more and more convinced that one can really die of a broken heart.