Inside the Mind of an Anxious Person at Four AM
I lie awake in bed, rolling over again and again, while the wheels of my brain are turning and cranking out thoughts. It must be around 4 AM. Curled in a fetal position on my right side is where I’m most comfortable. I think about the balance on my AMEX card. Once my right shoulder starts to hurt, which it always does, I rotate and lie on my stomach instead. With my arms down at my side and my left cheek on the pillow, I remember I need to transfer my AMEX balance to Bank of America. Lower interest rates. Close the AMEX card. Improve my credit rating. Buy a house someday.
Being on my stomach for too long makes me feel like I can’t breathe. I exhale audibly and roll onto my left side, legs curled back behind me. My mind turns to what I’ll wear out tonight. It’s New Year’s Eve. Dress to Impress. I don’t think I have any Dress to Impress type clothing, certainly nothing winter-appropriate. I’ll be cold. Right now, I’m too hot. I fold the blanket down off of my arms and roll onto my back. It’s still dark outside. I wonder what time it is. If I fall asleep right now, maybe I’ll feel well-rested when the alarm goes off at 6:30. Aaand… right now! Now! Sleep! Fall asleep! Turn off, brain! Shut down!
The hairs on my arms are standing up so I pull the blanket back over me. I wonder what time it is in Chile. Is it an hour difference or two? I’ll Google it in the morning. It is the morning. I’ll Google it when I get up. I am up. But I shouldn’t be. I bend my knees and let my legs fall to one side of my body. Observe the thoughts and let them pass. I can think about things later. I need to sleep right now, brain. I turn my legs over so they fall to the other side of my body. My hip flexors are sore. I need to stretch more. Daily. Create new habits, better habits. Drink more green smoothies. Buy bananas. There’s that one frozen banana that’s been sitting in the freezer for months. Is that still edible?
My temples are pulsing. I feel a headache coming on. I roll onto my right side again and press my temple into the pillow. Ouch, my shoulder. I roll onto my left side instead. Open my eyes. Still dark. Close my eyes again. I hear the computer fan come on in the next room. What’s the computer doing at this hour? Security scan? I thought I turned it off before bed. Guess not. Temples are still pulsing. I’m dehydrated. I get up, out of bed, fumble to the bathroom, grab two Excedrin, walk to the kitchen, turn the light on, glance at the clock. It’s 4:37 AM. I pour a glass of water, drink the whole thing, and drag myself back into bed, back onto my left side. Excedrin has caffeine in it. That’s not good. But that’s all I have. I need to take the car back to the mechanic. It’s idling low again. Is there time this week? Thursday’s a holiday. I’ll be out of town next week. It’ll have to wait. I wonder if I can fit all of my stuff in my small blue suitcase. I think it’s too small. Winter clothes take up more space. I’ll need to use the green duffel bag. I wish I had a travel yoga mat. Something I could just fold up and take with me. I guess I don’t really need a mat to do yoga in a hotel room.
I roll onto my back again, arms lying across my belly. Okay brain, go back to sleep. It must be 5:00 now. At least. What if I don’t fall asleep again? I’m going to be exhausted later. I’ll skip my run today. Go tomorrow instead. New Year’s Day. I should start off 2015 with a run. Even though it’s just an arbitrary box on the calendar. Renewal and shit. That’s important. Sleep, brain. Please. I’m begging you. Just turn off. Just for a little while.
The right side of my abdomen feels sore. Maybe a little swollen. Maybe I have gallstones. What if I need my gallbladder removed? I’d need to cancel my hotel and flight. I wonder if JetBlue would let me apply the ticket price to a future flight. Emergency gallbladder surgery seems like a legitimate reason. Do airlines even do that? I rotate my feet so my toes point inward and then flex at the ankles. That feels good. I rotate my feet outward and repeat. I rub my temples with my fingertips. The headache is going away, I think. I roll onto my right side, bottom leg outstretched, and top leg curled up next to my belly. I put one arm under the pillow. Sleep now. Please, sleep. I’m negotiating with my brain. Just stop thinking for now. We can think later. I promise. A little sleep, that’s all we need now. It’s still dark outside. Don’t look at the clock.
Honk! Honk! Honk!
It’s 6:30 AM. That’s the alarm clock. It’s really more like a honking sound than a buzzing sound. I hit the snooze button. I lie in bed, on my back, wondering if I actually fell asleep at all. I think my mind went blank for a little while there. Was that sleep? It was definitely verging on sleep. I hit snooze three more times before officially getting up. Well brain, I think you won. You did a lot of thinking already today. Please let me zone out for a while now. We can do this whole thinking thing again tomorrow. How’s 4 AM work for you?
