Survived another sleepless night solo in my sweet little Kits apartment. Practiced in the juice box on the Drive today, in a successful attempt to shake off the night's narcolepsy. Read online this morning of sudden muscular weakness triggered by strong emotions narcoleptic sufferers experience -- this sounds exactly like what happens to my mind and body night after night of late; I suddenly transition from an unstoppable force of positive, pulsing energy to an empty tank collapsed in bed. My emotional catalyst, precursor of my shut-down, is likely reflecting on either the lack of adult company chez moi -- my boyfriend lives in Edmonton and spends every other weekend with me -- or the absence of my daughter, who, on nights I feel cold and emptied, is at her aba's house. If I am ever unable to maintain my emotional strength, I fear the morning's remains will resemble a skeleton of the vibrant heart who once beat stronger than any threat or challenge could attempt to dampen. Sounds worse than death to me, the possibility of a constricted heart, beating merely to provide life and little else.
As I sit over this afternoon's caramel cappuccino, taking in the colorfully eclectic collection of cafe campers and passerby on the patio at Turk's, happily soaking up the European ambiance of enjoy life now -- ask questions later, I am freshly determined to transition this Tuesday. Tonight I will try for sleep, fully aware of the potential reasons it has been escaping me. Perhaps I need a roommate...who likes to snuggle.
