Sleeping with the Enemy

He's back.

Since he never left, I should say, he's starting with me again.  All this time, I've just managed to pull a feint and dodge him. Repeatedly.

I'm getting fairly adept at feinting and dodging my tormentor.  "They" say that one should stand up to their bully because bullies only respond to strength.  I suppose if I felt stronger, I could just stand up to him once and for all.  Maybe.  Or maybe it has nothing to do with strength.

I've known my tormentor from birth and he's been tormenting me in some fashion, all of my life.  But after John died, he became ruthless, relentless and merciless.  Taking whatever pleasure he could from my pain. Over and over again.

Let me introduce you to my tormentor, Anxiety. 

Now, you might be saying, "Hey - wait just one minute. How on earth does he have time to bully you when he is so busy bullying me?"

That's a fair and great question.  I personally think it's because he has toadies. They run in a sort of negative mental health pack.

Much like in the 1983 Holiday Classic,  "Christmas Story", there are bullies and toadies.  Toadies are the henchmen of the bullies. Think, Scut Farkus and Grover Dill....  got a picture? Try this one:

Like these bullies, Anxiety has toadies  Lots and lots of toadies.  Here are some popular ones,

Guys - stand up and introduce yourselves! What?  The Toadies are shy today?  How predictable...

In no particular order, and please stand when I introduce you:

Up first, we have...... Self Doubt.  Let's get a hand!  Self Doubt is adept at playing those really annoying messages in my head.  You know the ones, "I'm not good enough/smart enough/ talented enough/pretty/skinny/interesting/_____________ (fill in your own)".  Self Doubt hails from dark places inside that sometime we didn't even know about.  That's our toadie!

Next up we have one of our most popular toadies........  OCD!  Let's hear it for the aptly named toadie that owns a piece of everyone.  Sometimes sinister in the deeper passages of the obsessive and compulsive, most of us recognize OCD as something of an irritant that says "There's a pot in the sink, I won't be able to sleep til I clean it".  or "I'm hungry/thirsty/horny" when I'm not physiologically so.  Of course, how could we acknowledge OCD without mentioning the "must wash hands eleven times on Tuesday and flick the light switch 8 times or the oceans will dry up"? We can't!

Let's get a round of applause for OCD.

The next one up has so many layers and tentacles that I can hardly do it justice...

Give it up for... Depression!  Yes!  This toadie can actually get you to sleep, unless he's tagging along with Anxiety and then no one sleeps.  Depression can show up alone or bring friends for an all night party that can, in it's worst forms, end in death.

I have some other news that may not be so welcome... they are all interchangeable and you can mix and match!  Sort of like the Garanimals of mental health.

That's right - these guys are interchangeable.  So when you were scratching your head wondering how Anxiety had the time to harass me when he's got you hanging by the ankles to steal your pocket change - the answer is - one of his toadies was holding your ankles and collecting change or one of his toadies had climbed into bed with me.

That's right.  You heard it here first.  I'm sleeping with my bully.  Well, not exactly sleeping.  I'm staying awake with my bully. Wide, wide awake.  I'm laying awake with anxiety at night.  And he's not gentle.  He doesn't just come in and stay with negative, fearful or stressful thoughts - oh no - he's way too clever and manipulative for that - he also gives you good thoughts to have good anxiety over.  Stir Stir Stir and I'm up all night!

Some his latest tricks include: highlighting the thoughts and feelings about my church, my mom, Ellie and J, Lauralyn, money and my upcoming milestone birthday - and that was just last night.  Just in case, I'm displaying a rare strength and not responding enough to Anxiety's liking, we can always dig around in my psyche and find a student or two that I could have communicated better with or John and/or his family, my boo, my family and while we are at it, we could add my HOA and taxes too, Or my favorite - I have no idea why I'm awake, I just am and I know it's because of him.

They follow me too - You can't just "pack up and move".  Oh sure, for a little while, they are disoriented and confused about where you went, but eventually they find you.

When I lost my job in October and minutes later got a new and better one, Anxiety arrived, unbidden, suitcases in tow,  and said, "I hope they are planning to pay to fly us both out west for training - there's NO WAY I'm missing THIS!".  He followed me everywhere for the entire week! I think all his other "marks" were sleeping easy that week.  As if that wasn't enough, when I went back in January, the bastard had the audacity to show up again, with a brand new set of luggage ( which he expected me to check!), ready to go.  I don't even remember inviting him!  He stayed awake with me every damn night.

I did an Internet search the other day to see just who else Anxiety has been running around with.  I discovered that he's cheating on me regularly with thousands of other people!  thousands!  His toadies too! Wait.  I said cheating.  I must have Stockholm Syndrome as well.  I mean, without Anxiety and his toadies, who am I?  A person at peace?  I have no background for that.

But I want it.  Enough to take out the tools I need to beat it.

My toolkit.  The day to day tools that I am using to keep them out of my bed at night, sometimes just aren't enough.  I have to learn the warning signs better.   After John died, I used to know early in the day whether I was going to need medicinal support or not.  But now, not really.  Not fast enough.  I'm out of practice.  I haven't needed anything.  So now I need to up my game.

Now it starts with a night time routine.  I have ocean sounds on my echo dot.  Sometimes I take a bath.  I read for 20 minutes or so.  I do some stretching with an amazing breathing technique from Jeannie and strike a pose or two - a yoga pose that is.  I stop drinking alcohol an hour or two before bed - usually. I stop caffeine by 5 - though I don't think it's a factor.  I set up the Calm app on my phone for either a sleep story or a meditation for sleeping, I set up my sleep monitor, apply some dream catcher oil to my third eye and hopefully Anxiety won't show up.

As I approach the five year mark, I notice that I'm back to napping.   I won't say that it's a red flag - it's more like an orange one.  This one thing alone wouldn't disrupt the entire space time continuum.  It's this, plus all the other stuff in my monkey brain that I can't seem to place on the shelf without the bully or his toadies knocking it to the floor.  Don't get me wrong, Once in awhile, one hour of sleep is a nice, delicious feeling during the day.  But I hate the idea that I need it.  Same with medication - I hate the idea that I need it.

However, I can't go without sleep, and these bullies are brutalizing me all night long.  Or at least until I give in.  Once I cry uncle and take the meds, restart the guided mediation and do yet another round of yoga and stretching and breathing, everything will be fortified and it's "Bully-be-gone!

At this point in my story, Rebecca, the retired nurse, would be shaking her head and saying, "You know how to put a stop to it, so why do you wait to take the meds? "  That's such a good question.  Why do I wait?

I wait because I think I'm supposed to be better than the bullies.  That I can show those bastards that I am in charge of my own brain.  Before John died, I used to be able to say "We aren't dwelling on that now, and it's important, but we can think about it in detail tomorrow" and you know what, I'd have the solution or the wherewithal to find the solution the next day after a good nights sleep. Most of the time it worked.

So, I think I am going to just suck it up and add the magic pills to the tool kit so that I can rest my brain and ultimately let me rest my body.  I can chase this bully and his toadies away to a manageable distance and maybe hold them at bay a bit.

Just like Ralphie, in what came to be known as the "Scut Farkis Affair",  I will fight back. I will not lay there and wait for anxiety to take over my bed.  I will take the meds and use the tools that will stop the bully and his toadies from exerting their control over me.

Take THAT Anxiety.  Go sleep with someone else tonight.

I won't sleep with the enemy any more.