A Middle of the Night Committee Meeting…

Its 2:15am. I can’t sleep. The Committee trying to figure out and solve the problems of the world, or seeing which ones I can blame myself for. I’m not sure which one it really is. I just want sleep. Its been a really long time since I have had a night that sleep seems to be an unattainable goal despite how tired I am.

I had been sleeping, soundly. Enzo always whines to get up on the bed instead of just jumping up. I’m not sure why that is but it is what he does. Until I invite him up, he will whine, wait to see if I heard him and invite him up, then, if not invited, whine a little more insistently. He only does this at night once I’ve fallen asleep. During the day, no whine, just hops right up.

One of Enzo’s back legs is bothering him so jumping up on the bed is something that seems to be making him a little bit  nervous. A bothersome back leg is not unheard of, though not a common occurence, with this dog. He gets extremely acrobatic when we throw the frisbee for him, spinning this way, flipping that way, trying to fly and be as dynamic as possible while doing so. Sometimes, the landings are a bit rough. The only way we could ever get him to stop would be to stop throwing the frisbee for him, which seems a bit cruel. If you saw him while playing frisbee, you would most likely agree.

Anyway, with his leg bothering him, achieving the top of the bed, sure-footed, is a bit challenging. He has not quite made it a few times since his leg started bothering him this time so the prospect of missing it again causes him angst, causing him to circle back and forth while trying to gear himself up for the jump. Sometimes he can’t quite muster up the courage, so whines, again, as if to ask for more encouragement. Getting up on the bed a little while ago proved to be a bit of a trying process and took some time. I would fall back to sleep only to have Enzo whine at me, again. The Committee pounced on the sleep interruption as their chance to call a meeting of the minds.

Anyway, so I am awake. I know what has The Committee in such a state of unease. I am feeling overwhelmed, and my love tank is on fumes. I feel like I am working too much. Then, there is Lance’s doctor appointment today, which I have off, and his surgery tomorrow, which I do not. I have to try to figure in the time to do this clean and be able to take Lance to his surgery and pick him up. And something is up with the Jeep.

I haven’t wanted to bring it up, as if doing so would make it truly real. The oil pressure tanks sometimes when I come to a stop. If I put it in neutral and keep the rpm’s up, the oil pressure goes back up, but I can’t take my foot off of the gas or it tanks, again. It doesn’t stall or rough idle. I just look down at the gauge and it’s almost in the position it is in when the Jeep isn’t running. I have no idea what this means. Of course, this paycheck, the one I got yesterday, was the last one with a Jeep payment taken out of it. I’m really sick of ending up with crappy vehicles. Sigh

Lance, of course, figures into some of this sleeplessness. I know he has a lot to process in regard to cutting off his thumb and the fact that he has to have surgery, again. I know it’s not easy and has to be quite surreal for him. At least, I imagine it would be surreal. The fact that he blames himself for cutting off his thumb and not that it was an accident means that he is kicking himself, brutally, adding to what must be already overwhelming emotions and thoughts.

I have been trying to give him all the room he needs to deal with this, process it, and I have absolutely no expectations on how long that will take. It takes what it takes. Unfortunately, in the mean time, he isn’t really present. The depression and self loathing are overtaking him and there isn’t anything that I can do to help ease the process.

I try to toss in a small bit of undeniable reality when I hear him heading into catastrophizing over his thumb and its possible future, but I am not sure if this is helpful or not. I try to be there when he wants to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to, for the most part. I don’t know how to do this with him. I know I have some of my own emotions about it, as well, but I’m not really sure what they are. I think I have pushed them to the side for now because I need to be the strong one here. He is broken right now. Thank goodness for good friends that allow me to call them up and just vomit every now and again.

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About dragonflygypsyusa

Over-thinker with way too much availability to the internet to research whatever might come to mind, amateur photographer, dog enthusiast, learning every day, working on finding my undamaged self.
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