In Between Dreams…

i used to believe that life was just what happened in the interim between dreams.  i lived for sleep.  i didn't want to be real, i didn't want to be.  the longer i could sleep, the less i'd have to exist.  every once in a while, i still feel that need for lack of existence. 

i slept my evening away last night and this morning i fought the alarm.  i wanted to stay plunged in that dreamy state where i could just float.  i pushed it 10 extra minutes before i knew i had to give up that happiness and freedom found only in a our respite. 

the day brought the usual suspects.  classes, homework, loneliness.  the occasional feeling of worthlessness peppered with short bursts of giddiness and a rapid heartbeat.  the pills 3 times a day.  the constant, nagging, worrying feeling that just i just can't shake.

i’m tired of it.  i’m sick of being such a ‘worrywart’ (as my grandmother would have put it).  do i blame the drugs?  do i blame the therapy?  no, it’s just me and you’d think after nearly *ahem*30*ahem* years that i would just be used to it.  not so much. 

ok…take right now for example.  i’ve got dozens of things to worry about and they just rotate through like a pinwheel.  my worries blow through the breeze until the pinwheel stops and i fret and fuss over something for a bit.  then, the breeze blows and it twirls.  it’s another worry’s turn to torment me. 

shortly thereafter, i’ll receive a burst of energy.  like an adrenaline rush, it courses through my neurons and electrons…lighting me up.  my heart beats a lil faster, i smile a lil easier  , and laughter is never short of demand.  i ride the wave and enjoy the high while it stays. 

but, it never stays.  just as quick as it came on, it’s gone and i’m back to wishing for sleep.