Hypersomnia

the inability to stay awake and alert during the day despite having more than an adequate amount of nighttime sleep.

Now, let's clarify this by the fact that my work day is 10p-8a Wed-Sat, so I work third shift. I have no issues staying up when I have something to do. Work, taking my mother to doctor's appointments, running errands, etc.

But when there is nothing to do, no 'objective' I want to do nothing other than sleep. Doesn't matter if it is in my bed, or on the couch. If I'm not asleep I'm watching something on TV, or playing Fallout 4.

One would think this would lead to weight gain, yet since Febuary, I've lost 13 lbs. Maybe because I'm to tired or not motivated enough to cook for myself. Things that are easy to cook or eat have become the norm. Did you know that when you become an adult, you can have an ice cream sandwich for breakfast? Easier than cereal, and no dishes to wash.

I would chalk it up to depression, lord knows this year has given me more than enough reason to be. Add to that the one panic attack I think I mentioned previously, and I am fairly sure my mind is, if not broken, fractured. I started this blog because I can't afford therapy, and writing allows me to channel (even if I am rambling) my thoughts in some sort of way other than bottling it all up. I have two more hours of work left before I go home currently, and all I can think about is how good it will be to crawl into bed.

The fact that I am a fully functioning adult amazes me at times. My brother and I a few years ago noticed how our phone conversations had transitioned from talking about geek/nerd stuff to things like bills, and responsibilities. It was jarring how we came to the realization that we had grown up. Don't get me wrong, we were still geeks/nerds, but man....

So even with this overwhelming desire to do nothing but sleep, I still get thigs done. Bills are paid, laundry is done, dishes, Odin is fed. I eat... maybe. So it's not like it is interfering with my ability to function as an adult. But at the same time, it troubles me.

Why do I always want to sleep? Why can't I seem to get out of this funk I'm in? Why can't I stop beating myself up for Sansa's death? Why did I say something that made the woman I went on a date with uncomfortable? That last one may not be on me, as much as it is a result of her past trauma, and she is allowed that.

Hell, I don't even know if anyone is even reading this thing? I mean not that it matters, I started this so that I could juet vent when I felt the need. But at the same time, is there someone reading my blog and saying "man I wish I could help" or "dude, this man is fucked up in the head"? shrugs

At anyrate, time to make the doughnuts (or scones as the case my be)

Mark

I Miss My Lap Cat

Tomorrow, July 20th, would have been Sansa's 6th birthday. Five months later and I am still questioning what I could have done differently.

I've looked up signs of what cats typically do when they are sick. One of those is hiding. She never hid. Any time I sat down she was in my lap purring away.

How did I not notice she was sick? If I had noticed sooner, could it have kept her alive? How could I miss any sign that she was in distress? Was I a bad cat parent for not noticing? Why do I keep blaming myself? What could I have done different?

I am emotionally and mentally exhausted. When I am not at work, all I want to do is sleep. And then I'm reminded of how she always slept with me. Always wanted to be curled up under the blanket with me. So, when I do sleep, I don't sleep well. I go to bed, and I wake up feeling like 6 or 7 hours have passed, and it's only been 2.

And then there is Odin. He has been more affectionate and playful since Sansa left us. At the same time, you can tell he misses her. There are periods of the day where he roams the house looking for something, crying out.

People ask me if I will ever get another kitten. Part of me wants one, and part of me is afraid I will fail a new kitten the same way I failed Sansa.

And that seems to be the core. No matter what any one tells me, I feel as if I completely failed her. I feel as if I should have done/noticed more to help her. I feel as in her last days, weeks she didn't know why I wasn;t helping her.

Yes, I know way too much thought and emotion to attribute to a cat, but then again how do we know? How do I know?

How do I get past this? This is as much grief as it is me tearing myself apart and blaming myself, and I CAN'T.GET.PAST.IT.

Like butter that has been scraped over too much bread

I'm tired.
Not physically, but mentally I am exhausted. Lately, my routine has fallen into a cycle of work, sleep, errands, sleep, work. When I get off work, all I want to do is sleep. When my alarm goes off, all I want to do is hit snooze and sleep. When I'm at work, all I look forward to is going home so I can go to bed.
I've discovered this 'condition' is called hypersomnia. But again, without having seen a doctor, I have no true diagnosis.
I get three days off work a week, but typically I spend them running errands, or other things so it is almost like I am working, even on my off days. Add to that the exsessive heat we have been experiencing, and that leads to all sorts of just tired.
I wish I knew what to do. There are some studies on hypersomnia that say it is tied to depression, and I personally feel that could be the source. After the year I've had. Sure, my son getting married was a good day, but that is one good day compared to Sansa and Gordon's deaths. The anniversary of dad and granny's deaths. Sansa's birthday next week. Gordon's birthday a few weeks after his death. It just seems to be one loss compounded by another and the only outlet I have is this journal.
On the plus side, I've lost twelve pounds, so I guess that's a good thing?