Monday, July 2, 2012

To Sleep; Perchance To Scream

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?”
--Ernest Hemingway

“I love being awake.  My body has the tendency to fall apart when I’m asleep, you know?”

Happy Independence Day Eve you assorted chuckleheads and lovable fans of I’m With Stupid.

Tomorrow we as a nation will celebrate our independence from tyranny and oppression of a wig wearing King and his impressive, albeit less than manly dressed, military forces.

I sadly will be, as I too often do, experience the discomfort of being eternally indentured and forever shackled to my fear of sleeping.

That’s right.  The Matt-Man…the man about town, gad about town, effusive, devil-may-care Matt-Man has a fear of going to sleep, or as clinicians term it…

Hypnophobia and/or Somniphobia.

Yeah one term is Greek; the other is Latin, fight it out amongst yourselves, and at 3 in the morning let me know which term came out on top as I will be wide awake due to, MY FEAR OF SLEEPING!!


Many psychiatric and medical types find that the fear of sleeping is often tied to a recurring, reality based nightmare, and just like nearly all people, I too have an occasional nightmare, and one that recurs often.

I often dream that I am having sex with Ann Coulter.

Ann is on top of course, and all the while in Latin, screaming, “Liberals are killing our babies and stealing from our Grandmothers!!”...she is wielding a Bible in one hand, a cheese grater in the other, and a can of corned beef hash swings upon a chain of thorns in a discordant rhythm, beneath her reptilian like neck.

I don’t get it.  I don’t like it either, but that’s not what frightens me from practicing the joy that is sound and restful sleep.

No my friends…My fear of sleep is neither mental nor emotional.  It’s physical.

Let me tell you , when we are busy at the Beer Mine, I am at the top of my game both physically and mentally. I am entertaining folks, swingin’ 30 packs around like nobody’s business, and tap dancing around like Mr. Bojangles.  It feels good.  I feel good.

And yet…

After an exhaustive, yet fulfilling day of doing that, I come home and at some point lay down, shut my eyes, and when not getting REM-Sleeped hosed by Ann Coulter and her cheese grater, other things begin to happen. Bad things.

For instance…

I woke up Sunday morning, I was in the same position I was in when I went to sleep, however…during the night, my left wrist must have thought it was double-jointed as it evidently bent over backwards to prove it, because it was dreadfully sore when I woke up.

It got better as the day went on, and I quit complaining about it, so by Sunday night when I went to sleep, I was happy and looking forward to a Monday where I felt 100%.

It wasn’t to be.

When I awoke Monday, my wrist was almost perfect, however I evidently slept funny and I had like a pinched nerve/muscle in my neck and the pain radiated down to my shoulder.

It’s the type of neck pain where if I want to look sideways, I have to turn my entire upper body, because it hurts to turn my neck.  Annoying folks!!

And then there are the early morning Charlie horse attacks in the calf, the AC dying at 2 AM resulting in me waking up feeling like a glazed donut, and of course the night screams from my BFF/OSP when she realizes on occasion, that I am sleeping in the bed with her.

I can’t take it folks, so…

Pass me another NOS, Monster, and/or Full Throttle, because the Matt-Man is never sleeping again…Ever!!



No comments:

Post a Comment