The Living Year: Day 6

tv tv tv tv tv tv tv tv....

Ok, so it's not THAT bad yet, but I think I'm finally hitting the point of television withdrawal. I hear the shows in my head still- Chandler's quips, Seinfeld's smarm, Rose's naivety. And when I'm not thinking about that I am thinking about EVERYTHING. I can not believe how much talking in my head I have done in the past 6 days, and I can't even tell if I always did that or if it's just because my mind is no longer shut off with the tv on.

Seriously, my mind will not stop going and going, and it's not even for any deep introspection really. It's as if my mind has become it's own dramatist, recalling detail after detail of the actions surrounding me. For example in my mind I would be saying: 'Kris reaches into the refrigerator and grasps that last can of Diet Coke. She winces as the tab tugs hard on her nail, causing it to bend backwards.' 'Joe meanders into the kitchen, singing in a high-pitched mocking tone of some song as he looks for a snack.' 'As Kris peers out the window near her cubicle she notices the blackening clouds approaching and waits hopefully for the spark of lightning.'

It seems as if everything I am doing or noticing is being recorded for a book or play. And I think the reason is because I've reverted back to reading as much as I can, which is making me think constantly in terms of prose. It means I'm either going nuts or I simply can not exist without some sort of story going on (or maybe both).

I did get close last night to reaching for the remote though. You would think that my ingrained daily routine of turning the television on would be cause me to break, but actually, that's not my desperate hour. The time when it is really going to be tough is as night, as I learned while trying to sleep.

Now, I don't feel ashamed to admit that I am 26 years old and still afraid of the dark. Ever since I was a kid I could remember being freaked out by total darkness, so much that I'd sometimes force my eyes open just so I could stay on constant watch, should someone (or something...?) try to sneak up on me. It wasn't enough having my sister sleeping in the bed across the room, knowing I wasn't alone. For some reason I still always believed whatever was coming was coming for me, and my sister would be no help.

My parents tried to help me find solutions. It wasn't enough just trying to remind me that there was no one there, all it would take would be a creak in the house or the wind howling and my eyes would pop back open. So they gave me a radio to listen to. Unfortunately, the radio kept my sister awake so my parents gave me headphones instead. While that did work for some time I found that either I'd have to often change the station (this was during the time all that Ace of Base, Real McCoy techno-crap was popular- not exactly lullabies) or be subjected to the top hits of Spanish radio.

Finally, since we had a tv in the room, my parents showed me how to operate the sleep timer on it. This is yet another piece to my television addiction puzzle. From then on, I relied heavily on this method. It allowed me the company of the light and sound until I fell asleep and then the tv would go off, no longer disturbing my sister. I used to do this ever since, until now.

Last night started off fine. I had been reading and that (combined with our wonderful day at the Great Grapes Wine Fest with our buddies Heather and Dylan-my 6th FOLLOWER!) was enough to make me tired. Joe settled in next to me and I clicked the lamp off. As I was trying to get comfortable I kept tossing and turning, kicking one leg here, pushing my arm there, trying to find both the warm and cool spots on the mattress. The longer it seemed to take me to fall asleep, the more aware I became of the darkness in the room. Now granted, I have been sleeping in this same bedroom for the past two years AND my boyfriend was right beside me. Yet I still couldn't help being keenly aware of the darkness and shadows around me. And that's when I realized; it's not just the dark that freaks me out, but its the empty sound. When it's too quiet, all I keep expecting is a loud noise. I try to not focus on anything, let the sounds all blend together, yet the more I try to mute everything it seems the louder the smallest sounds become.

I was trying like hell to turn my mind (which also enjoys fucking with me at nighttime) and ears off, racing to be asleep before my fears set in. And then I heard it. A distinctly odd sound. My eyes shot open again. It freaked me out so much I almost considered tapping Joe to wake him. And then I felt for the remote. I almost had it completely in my grip when I let it drop back to the carpet. No, I'm not going out, not yet, not now.

And then I pulled out my ace in the hole, my lucky sleeping charm: Peter Pan. Allow me to explain....You ever see the cartoon Disney version of Peter Pan, and in particular, the scene when he has Tinker Bell sprinkle the kids with fairy dust and they fly to Neverland? When I was a kid, that scene was my mantra. I used to visualize that scene over and over again, until it chased my fear away. I guess I liked its' message: think happy thoughts and you
ll get to fly. I even used to go so far as to leave my slippers and robe by my bed JUST IN CASE the story was true and Peter Pan ever stopped by (afterall I wanted to be prepared).

So there I was, all 26 years of me, visualizing that scene for the umpteenth time, and honestly, that's the last thing I remembered before I finally passed out. Not only did I manage to salvage a few hours of sleep, but I managed to avoid breaking my oath.

But I can tell you, it's gonna get difficult. I can only imagine my urge right now the size of a pea, sitting right in the pit of my stomach. I believe that as the days pass, this little pea is gonna start to grow. I just have to get through this withdrawal, and get to the other side. Wish me luck another day!