Thursday, 21 March 2013
Sleep feels jumbled now. The long smooth curves of an ordinary night have been replaced by lumps of unconsciousness so deep it feels like you can only emerge with the aid of a lifebelt, interspersed with paddling around on the surface unable to strike a rhythm. It's not restful, but it is what happens and it leaves my body scrabbling for more in the middle of the day. My eyes close anywhere and everywhere - seated, standing, church, swimming class as I wait for DD. And there's nothing I can do about it other than be patient for the long smooth night in cotton sheets, from which I will awake feeling rested and new. Now I'm so close to the end, this nirvana is tantalisingly near.