Nights like this drive me up the wall - I feel the minutes dance past, glancing over their shoulders and laughing back at me.
It's almost 5:30 in the morning and I want to sleep, but I can't sit still long enough to do it. No position in bed is comfortable, the pillows will stay lumpy no matter how much I bunch or punch them. Even the Stitch toy I usually sleep curled around seems determined not to be curled around, tonight.
Part of it is hypomania. Part of it is having to get back into the swing of leaving my home when I don't want to. Monday is here and I'll have to take the kids to school. Not agoraphobia so much as a desire to avoid people. There are people out there. Drivers who may get mad at me for not moving fast enough, who may be in too big a hurry to remember not to hit me. There's the delicate balancing act of trying to make sure I let the person in the crosswalk get all the way across while still making it seem to the car behind me that I am advancing forward. Lights to make or decide not to make.
People who may glance across at me through the car window.
Then there's knowing that whatever brief reprieve I have from needing to exist in the world will be interrupted by needing to go back out to pick the kids up again.
If I lay down right now, I may get an hour and a half's nap.
