Waking up, getting up, actually waking up... Difficulties and Injustices
I swear it hasn't been that hard to get up out of bed for every human being since the dawn of time. Why is there that unfailing feeling of tiredness when I wake up? It's totally not fair to give my body a good sleep and feel like a dead rock the next morning in return. I'll bet it happens to other people more often than I might think, but with all of its tenacity, does it serve a purpose or is it some simple fact of life? There have been a few mornings born in vigor and well-restedness, but it is so uncommon with me. Maybe I'm just odd, or have some sleeping disorder, but I'm sure I'm not the only one in this club.
The quality of sleep, along with the amount, seem to provide my own equation for a good nights rest. If either is lacking then the feeling of laborious sensitivity in the nerves is ever present. However, my ability to proceed with awareness is unpredictably tied to this equation in ways even my mother does not suspect. Every morning I switch on the autopilot to be able to cope with that dreadful sensation of getting out of bed and the autopilot doesn't resign till I'm either a few minutes into my morning routine or my second period class, and is hired all over again the next morning. Despite my mothers unfailing, intuitive comments on how I can function and learn with a good nights sleep, my wired nerves heighten my senses to the point of irritability and I stay pleasantly awake through the morning church services or classes. Maybe my subconscious reasons that I must have disturbed my own precious sleep for a very good purpose and should devote whatever energy I retained into what I'm doing that morning. The problem with this is that there is an inevitable wasted feeling consequentially that afternoon and evening. Whether this is true or not, all I know is that the intuition of my mother has been unprecedently mistaken this time and that I'm wide awake during that morning's talk and everyone else is struggling with 2 ton eyelids.
Why such unpredictability? Some nights I'll obtain a consistent amounts and feel completely opposite each morning. When I get more sleep than I aspire for, I feel like a sloth, and when I get less, an awake sloth. There doesn't seem to the right amount no matter what federally employed statiticians say. In spending 1/3 of mankinds existence asleep, one would think that we'd have it figured by now or have gone insane. Whatever is the case, I'm tired of trying to write this blog and contemplating purposes for this unwelcome guest every morning, but it's more complicated than just giving him the boot.
The quality of sleep, along with the amount, seem to provide my own equation for a good nights rest. If either is lacking then the feeling of laborious sensitivity in the nerves is ever present. However, my ability to proceed with awareness is unpredictably tied to this equation in ways even my mother does not suspect. Every morning I switch on the autopilot to be able to cope with that dreadful sensation of getting out of bed and the autopilot doesn't resign till I'm either a few minutes into my morning routine or my second period class, and is hired all over again the next morning. Despite my mothers unfailing, intuitive comments on how I can function and learn with a good nights sleep, my wired nerves heighten my senses to the point of irritability and I stay pleasantly awake through the morning church services or classes. Maybe my subconscious reasons that I must have disturbed my own precious sleep for a very good purpose and should devote whatever energy I retained into what I'm doing that morning. The problem with this is that there is an inevitable wasted feeling consequentially that afternoon and evening. Whether this is true or not, all I know is that the intuition of my mother has been unprecedently mistaken this time and that I'm wide awake during that morning's talk and everyone else is struggling with 2 ton eyelids.
Why such unpredictability? Some nights I'll obtain a consistent amounts and feel completely opposite each morning. When I get more sleep than I aspire for, I feel like a sloth, and when I get less, an awake sloth. There doesn't seem to the right amount no matter what federally employed statiticians say. In spending 1/3 of mankinds existence asleep, one would think that we'd have it figured by now or have gone insane. Whatever is the case, I'm tired of trying to write this blog and contemplating purposes for this unwelcome guest every morning, but it's more complicated than just giving him the boot.
posted by Sir Radish at 10:26 PM
2 Comments:
heh, no, you're definately not alone. This may not apply to you, but I think that one big factor is that maybe a lot of us aren't emotionally rested, or optimistic about the day ahead. Because of the strong link between emotions and our bodies, this can lead to almost physical weariness, even though we're giving our bodies the sleep it needs. It's kinda like how an emotional blow or pain releases the exact same chemicals into the same place of your brain as does a cut or some other physical blow. It's interesting to think how much attitudes and emotions effect us, even if we say we're tough, and that it doesn't really matter anyway. It makes me feel a little less pathetic :D
ps why do you have such pedantic word choice in blogs, when you don't speak that way, or even IM that way? I guess I just don't spend that much brain power on my blogs :D
You think my word choice is pedantic? hehe that's kind of ironic, because in my blogs I've tried to develop an open mind through them. My understanding of 'pedantic' is ostentatious, trivial aspects, narrow focus, etc...
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