An Insomnia Addled Love Letter

“Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable."—Fred Rogers

It’s 7:30 in the morning and I haven’t slept yet.

It’s a thing that happens a lot these days.

I read a while, watched a couple of documentaries, hung around YouTube, went for a silent meditative walk at 4:00 am, hung out briefly with a friend and fellow insomniac, walked home to silence but for the birdsong and garbage trucks.

Tried to write, but couldn’t.

Watched the sunrise.

Tried to sleep.

And now here I am.

Writing to you, my dear anonymous reader.

There is a certain vulnerability that comes with insomnia.

I suppose that in boxing and in life, when you become exhausted you let your guard down.

I mean, this is exactly how the movie Jerry Maguire started off. A sleepless night leads a dude (with great hair) to write an emotionally charged idealistic manifesto for a better world.

I don’t know if this is going to be that. Though I do have nice hair. Or at least a nice beard.

And I am feeling vulnerable.

And I am writing something (clearly).

So we'll see what happens.

Also, I am probably not nearly as funny as I feel I am right now. Apologies. I’ll try to edit out the worst of it later. Or not. I do have a lot of Netflix to watch today. Might not have the time.
Things are just so busy right now, aren't they?

Okay, let me start again:

Everything feels crazy right now.

Right? 

I know I am certifiably crazy (with the mental health hospital water bottles to prove it), but none of this is normal is it?

I have therapist friends who have said that they have several patients who are now showing signs of trauma who hadn’t before. And this makes perfect sense to me. I believe we are right now experiencing a globally traumatic event. Which is not nearly over. 

There are those who are in shock, denial, and disbelief. There are those who are feeling numb and disconnected. Nightmares, mood swings, feelings of hopelessness and despair, anger.

All of the symptoms of trauma are in abundance across the globe.

Who isn’t feeling at least a little of at least one of those things right now?

Some of us are feeling a lot.

I don’t mean to harp on the issue. I know I am tired of reading about how upside down everything is right now. 

But I am also just tired. And disconnected. And so often overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings that I have a hard time formulating sentences or returning calls (apologies, apologies).
And I know that some (most? all?) of you are feeling the exact same way.

Which is why, in my deliriously sleepy way, I want to look you right in the digital eye and tell you really and truly, it’s okay to not feel okay.

I’d dare say that not feeling okay is the healthy and appropriate response to what we are right now collectively going through.

And I am sure a million people have already said that, and have likely said it better, but it just feels really important to give you, dear beloved reader, permission to really grieve.
To take a moment to catch your breath and listen to and feel whatever it is you’re feeling. 

Maybe you are not grieving. I don’t know. I am grieving. And I am confused, and irritable, and stir-crazy, bored, lonely but never feel like talking. I am feeling so many things at once that I can’t interpret them, can’t give each thing a name.

It’s a bell jar. It’s a whirlwind. It’s a tidal wave.

To be honest, that is how I feel most of the time. 

But now I am certain I am not alone in that feeling.

And to be honest again, I find some comfort in that.

But to be even more honest, I feel guilty that I do.

I don’t want any of us to suffer.

But yet here we are.

Suffering.

Yet we at least do not do it alone.

So as it turns out, this is not my Jerry Maguire manifesto. 

This is just a letter in a bottle.

From my island to yours.

Just a way to say that whatever you’re feeling is fine.

And all things pass. Even this.

And I love you (probably).

And you are not a bad parent even if the kids are driving you insane.

And you are not lazy or useless even if you have nothing to do. And you still have plenty of time to learn to bake bread.

And your pajamas look great.

We will get through this.

Love yourself, friends.

And try to get some sleep.