Some days are just like this. You feel warn out and used. Today is one of those days for me. And I've done nothing. I woke up at noon, after sleeping for 15 hours. I was sick. Was sick, am sick - the lines are fuzzy. I pushed myself too hard today. I should have stayed in bed but instead found it necessary to go on with my plans. Life never stops for me to be sick. If that were the case life would cease completely. 15 hours of sleep should be enough. But it's not. It never will be.

Why is it that I fight sleep so? It's not even a fight anymore. Never really was it a fight so much as a battle I never could win. I can't sleep most times due to pain and when I could I desire to remain awake for fear of what I might find when I wake. At least I know there will be pain. What I'm not sure of is whether it might be worse or if there might be something else unknown to face when I am faced with the day. My quote in jest about my alarm setting habit and why it takes me an hour to get out of bed is that "it takes me that long to realize God isn't kidding and I have to do it all again." Unfortunately, I'm not jesting all that much when I utter those words with a laugh.

Fear of the unknown often plagues me. But in sleeping the unknown becomes unclear and then I cannot control or contemplate my next action. The unknown of sleep. It's relief from my physical pain but forces me to face certain emotions I dislike. I believe this to be the reason I fight sleep. Also, I don't like waking up alone. Oh well, it's almost time for bed.