I’ve been trying to capture the time, that second, between the blissful first fuzzy moment of waking and the next when all the worries of the world start falling in. I’m sure you, the reader, know the feeling as well as I do, maybe you are fortunate enough not to experience it every day but I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about. It’s most pronounced at times of grief, particularly if you had so much on your mind that it took forever to get to sleep in the first place and every precious moment of it counts. I felt it worst when my father died, like a Chuck Jones cartoon piano dropping on my head each morning, right now it’s just a sledgehammer, aren’t perspectives strange? A sledgehammer seeming pleasant.
Back when I used to have a “proper job” there was a distinct quality to my wakings, jolted into action by blaring music in the dark, knowing that the day was not my own and would be dedicated to the pursuit of things that would be profoundly pointless in the scheme of things. It is rare, for me, to experience the dreaded alarm clock now and when I do I am on a mission rather than a chore and it is usually worth the effort.
There are some days that are so hard to get through, when being awake with my thoughts is unbearable, then I go to sleep at midday. On days like these it’s strange, the waking thing just isn’t the same second time around, maybe it’s the unnatural pattern to it but that nice fuzzy moment is not there, it more like pausing a DVD, a “now, where was I.” moment.
My waking state for the last year of so has settled down to constant loop of sadness, frustration and regret that I desperately need to distract myself from and aside from a fitful time in hospital of beeping things and restricting cables and tubes thus seems now to be my lot in life. At times like these, those couple of seconds are extra precious and some days they can be the best part of the day… What a sad thought!