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Anxiety. Poetry. Facebook.

January 5, 2014

I’ve been sleeping poorly for weeks, plagued by waking insomnia. I’ll pretend I don’t know why, but of course I do. Or one of the reasons, at least. I know this last straw, even if I can’t for the life of me identify the others nor remember how or when they piled up on my back. Each morning, regardless of when I went to bed (be it ten or two) I wake when the clock strikes three, an hour Ayurveda and my ex-boyfriend’s mother both agree is typical for this affliction. Each morning I fall back asleep 20 minutes before the alarm will go off, a time most insomniacs will agree is the easiest in which to finally rest. 

But last night, last glorious night, I fell asleep complaining to a friend via text about my plight, and woke up a full doctor-recommended seven and a half hours later. And when I woke, the first thing I did find in my Facebook feed was an article from the Guardian about anxiety. So to stave off cabin fever on this chilly Sunday, all day I’ve collected snippets from my News Feed that fit the subject. Cut, pasted, collected, and curated, the past 24 hours in Facebook melotrauma comprise this:

It’s time to apologize in advance for my behavior

Last night I felt old
        There’s fog inside my room 
This can’t be healthy
Now I’m wide awake
Don’t worry. Be happy
Can’t you just feel the excitement and joy…? 
Soaking up the warm sun before the next arctic plunge
If you try to control it too much, you’ll get stuck 
Somewhere between the mope and the hope
I’m so sick of being sick
Most fearful emotions and behaviors are produced by, or at least processed through, the amygdala, a tiny almond-shaped organ at the base of the brain*
You’re kidding me, right? 
 I desire the things which will destroy me in the end.**
That one took years off my life
A sad day.
Losing my mind here 
Head’s up!
Help spread the word
Today’s world bears a number of striking similarities with the build-up to the First World War
We don’t ask enough questions… cable TV, social media and cheeseburgers, anyone?
We think we understand the rules when we become adults, but what we really experience is a narrowing of the imagination ***
I feel comfortable, it has always been that way   
               (I was a sheep)
Here’s a little warmth 
     (not exist without you)
F-ck yes.  
I’m back on the grid 

starred items are themselves quotes not posted by the original speaker/writer, so I’ll attribute, because I’m classy:
* Scott Stossel, via The Guardian
**Sylvia Plath
*** David Lynch 
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