Diary of a Lullabye

Also another work in progress...I keep picking it up and putting it back down.




These hammers and strings…

It’s 3am and I still can’t sleep. Im not sure what it is that happens to my brain after the sun goes down but I know that it’s not good. I’ve tried just about everything. I’ve tried staying up an entire night so that I can try to go to sleep super early and sleep through the night, I’ve tried every age old wives tale like drinking warm milk and counting sheep. I’ve tried completely dark rooms as well as lights on, sound and complete quiet. But somehow when the sun goes to sleep, my brain goes to work. The things that I think about are ridiculous. What would happen if ants took over the world, what is the first thing I would buy if I won the lottery, what are the things that I think make up the perfect man, should I get up and exercise to help lose that last 10 pounds? Most normal people lie down and their brains shut off and they relax. I’m not familiar with relaxation. When I do finally drift off, it seems as though it’s fitfull periods of a few hours at a time. My name is Misty and this is my diary of a lullabye.

I’ve seen pyscologists and sleep experts. They advice to is to write things down. Get them out of my brain so that when I try to sleep, there is nothing there. So, here I sit with this little notebook by my bed and a trusty #2. I’m at a loss for anything else so I guess I shall try. It’s weird cause I don’t think of myself as much of a writer. Probably because anytime I have tried to write anything down, there is so much going on that I can never stay on subject. I guess that since this for me, that doesn’t really matter. So, here goes-

I guess maybe I should try figuring out where this problem comes from which has actually been one of the things that has kept me up plenty of nights. There have been many times that I have come to the conclusion that I can attribute it to my parents. Well, not the parents that I have now. The parents I had growing up. So, my bio dad passed away when I was only a baby. Most people would say maybe that’s something I never dealt with and that’s part of my problem. Well, I say I have dealt with it as much as someone can. He was never someone that I knew so it’s hard to blame something on him. I never knew him or even knew of him. It’s hard to miss something that you never knew existed. So, we can scratch that off the problem list. My mom remarried when I was 3 to a man that she thought was the answer to her problems of being a single mom in the 70’s. Well, as the years went by…well, like 2 years…she realized that was not the case. To say he was a mean person is a bit of an understatement. I don’t really attribute my problems to him being mean to me but he sure was an ass to my mom. There were definitely times that I felt like I lived in some kind of afterschool special. I remember sucking it up and going to talk to my school counselor because I thought that I was the reason that they fought constantly. He gave me some weird advice. When they would start to fight I would go outside and sit in the car. I was lucky enough to live in a town small enough that there was never anything to do. So, as a child I read A LOT. I liked to read about places that I couldn’t imagine. Places that were so far away and people that had problems that seemed very glamourous. Places like Sweet Valley. Books with girls named Ramona and girls that started their periods and it was an event for the entire family. So, when the yelling would start, I would grab a book and head to the car. I think I started doing this somewhere around the age of 7. It lasted till I was 11 and my mom finally realized that whenever she couldn’t find me after one of the fights, that I was outside in the car. She sat me down and asked me why I spent so much time doing this. I explained it was the only place that I couldn’t hear them yelling at each other usually about me. Even if I sat on the front steps to our house, in the yard or even the driveway I could still hear it. When I got in the car with the windows rolled up and the doors shut, it was like my own little world. Sometimes I would take a pillow and blanket and fall asleep. The tip of the iceberg was when my mom found me in the car at 5am once because the fight had started after my normal bedtime and I couldn’t sleep through it so sleeping in the car seemed like a smart alternative. Oh, the sweet mind of a child. This seemed so very normal to me as a kid. I look back on it now and see how very strange most people would of thought it was.