No One Would Want the Real Me

I was awake this morning at 3:30 a.m. This is partly because I go to bed early and partially because I have insomnia. I’ve had insomnia for about two years now. I’m sure a person in my bed would love to have their lover awake and moving about at 3:30 in the morning.

When I wake up, I gasp in pain as I take my first few steps. My body (especially my knees) doesn’t like, um, moving, especially in the morning.

By 5:30 a.m., I was sobbing on my couch, using up tissue after tissue. Waves of sadness, depression, grief, etc., are not uncommon for me. I have bipolar, and I’m in a depression. I have no doubt that someone would adore walking in on their loved one sobbing uncontrollably at random moments. It’s quite the way to start your day.

By 6:30 a.m. I’m taking analgesics for my budding headache, which will undoubtedly plague me all day. Someone by my side would get to see the headache pain on my face for the millionth time.

Blech, the real me is awful.