Insomnia isn’t something new to me, I’ve dealt with it several times in my life. I’d been lucky in that for the last couple of years I’d only had passing encounters with it here and there. A night spent tossing and turning after the weekend or before something big wasn’t a huge deal; nothing like what I’ve dealt with in the years past. I think part of it had to do with having my depression somewhat under control. I can’t say it was absent, because it certainly hasn’t been, but it wasn’t causing my mind to whirl off at Mach II in the wee hours of the morning.

Now, however, after becoming a victim of the failing economy almost two months ago (read: laid off because the company was floundering) my insomnia has come back and brought bags for what I fear is going to be an extended visit. Really, it’s been showing up off and on since the lay off, but in the last two or three weeks it’s been making an almost constant appearance. I’ve had luck beating it into some form of submission with various combinations of medication, but alas that can only go so far.

As is proven by the fact that I’m wide awake at 2:11AM while my other half snores soundly in bed. Really, it doesn’t bother me – I’ve got tomorrow to recover if I’m unlucky enough to spend more than an hour or two staring at the computer screen trying to will my eyelids to get heavy. I worry though that my other half will wake up, realize I’m gone and come to find out what’s wrong. His work schedule has given us such a limited amount of time together that I know he’ll want me back in there, if only to snuggle with while he sleeps.

I understand the feeling – I’ve been on that side of the relationship before. I know how lonely it can feel in that bed, trying to sleep when your other half is awake and persuing other activities. At least he doesn’t have to worry about what those activities are or who they’re with, unlike when I was in that situation. That’s neither here nor there though.

I’ve been in bed since about 10pm, trying my very best to fall asleep. I spent the first two hours reading, hoping that would be enough to make my mind slow down and slowly sink into sleep. After getting through a good number of pages I realized I really wasn’t any closer to sleep, but hope that the slow pulling at the edges of my mind would be enough to bring on unconsciousness. Alas, the last two hours or so have been spent tossing, turning, fighting the dog for space, listening to Ray snoring and my mind whirling around in every direction but toward sleep.

I’ve thought about something i read in a friend’s journal and how it made me feel. I’ve thought about how helpless I feel with the house and how I wish I could find the motivation to clean. I’ve thought about the drunken safari we took at Busch Gardens and how I wish we’d had a camera as I don’t have any pictures of it. I’ve wondered what ever happened to the couple we’d given our email address to so they could send us the pictures they took. I’ve wondered what Christmas will be like this year, with a bare tree and empty stockings, just the two of us and our animals.

I’ve thought about something another friend said to me today, about not understanding why luck always seems to be working against me. Realizing how that feeling has made me so hesitant to go out on limbs and hope or work for things. Pictured myself on my knees at church, in tears and begging the pastor to please help me understand why that is. It’s not that God has given me tragedy after tragedy in my life – not the big ones. It’s more that he’s constantly giving me little ones, ones that are enough to break the spirit and make you want to stop trying. Tragedies that always manage to push me back to where I started, never quite letting me get ahead more than a step or two for very long.

I used to abide by the sayings “Everything happens for a reason” and “God would never give you more than you can handle”, but really after a long enough time those just sound like, excuse my language, bullshit.

If there is some big, meaningful lesson that I’m meant to learn, then show it to me. Tell me what it is so I can at least follow along until I understand it. If I’ve done something so horribly wrong that I deserve this, fine; but at least have the decency to tell me what my crime is so I know why I’m suffering day in and day out. If there really is no reason for any of this then I beg to be taken out of the game because I can’t continue playing it for decades to come. I’m already almost 3 into and the idea of another 3 or 4 more like it is terrifying. I don’t think what’s left of my spirit could really take it, to be honest.

As I said, it’s not big tragedies that are killing me, but rather a constant flow of small ones that wear away at you like water over rocks. I used to think I was the water, always fighting for a way through and flowing with the changing landscape, but maybe I really do take after my astrological sign and am the earth; slowly being eroded away by the flow of life.

Maybe I’m not meant for life, for living. It really doesn’t feel like I am sometimes, because every time I try I fail and something pushes me back further than I was before. Maybe I’m someones cruel joke of a science experiment, like a mouse in an electrified maze and all I’m meant to do is learn which passages not to go down over and over again. Maybe I’m just a waste, something leftover and thrown together at the last minute like a term paper or final project. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be and because of that was never given a path to be anything more than a wandering lost soul until I finally give in and give up. Maybe I was meant for greatness at one point, but lost my one and only chance at it and am now stuck wandering the random path of a loser because I couldn’t live up to my potential.

I don’t really know. I do know that even at 2:30AM all of this sounds horribly contrived and melodramatic. It sounds extremely bleak, morose and depressing. I’ll admit to the depressing part but on this side of the screen it really just feels final, or like a small amount of enlightenment. A calm that comes when some spark of realization or truth hits you, no matter how morbid or hopeless.

Hopelessness really stems from a feeling of not having control, knowing that something horrible is coming and having no control to stop it. This doesn’t feel like that. There’s no urge to make it stop, to turn away and try to find another path. It’s more of a grim resolution to let it happen, perhaps a glimmer of hope that if I stop fighting it won’t hurt anymore.

Again, in the wee hours of the morning by the yellowish haze of the streetlights outside, this all sounds morbid and melodramatic. It sounds like a soliloquy one of my characters would be spouting at some climatic moment right before something horrible happens. Perhaps that’s just part of my mental process; what it takes for me to empty my mind and try to move on again. Really, there’s no perhaps about it – I know it is.

I’ve always said that writing is the best therapy I’ve ever been able to find since I don’t subscribe to the alcoholic or illegal-drug forms. It’s the only way I’ve ever been able to find that allows me to take all of the chaotic thoughts in my head and get them out, allowing me some semblance of peace.

It also seems to be doing it’s job, along with the sleeping pills I took a little while ago. I can feel a fuzzy calm seeping it’s way into the edges of my mind, making things softer and lighter. I like these moments the best because it gets hard to focus on more than one thing at a time. It’s much harder to work your mind into a frenzy when you’re having difficulties constructing a complete thought. Sure, it may still bounce around a little, but only it short spurts that don’t last very long.

And on that note I think it’s time to hit publish and go join my snoring husband, see if I can’t find my way to sleep after all. If I don’t I’ll be back because I know me and if 3am comes and goes, the chances of getting sleep that’s actually restful and won’t leave me feeling like a zombie tomorrow are slim to none.

So goodnight and good luck, as (I believe) a famous radio or TV personality once said.

There’s a message board that I visit regularly, but don’t participate in often. It’s a varied group of women, ranging from teenagers to senior citizens. Now, they all have one thing in common but I’m starting to notice something else and it sort of boggles my mind.

There is a Rant section of the board where people will air their frustrations and look for support or advice. Being that it is a board full of women, inevitably a post about a husband or boyfriend will pop up where the original poster is worried about their SO cheating on them. Sometimes it will just be the guy acting funny or other times it will be emails or texts that the woman found while snooping.

First, I’ll admit that I’m guilty of snooping. I didn’t find any necessarily incriminating evidence, but I also didn’t like what I found either. I let it go – stupid me.

Anyway, that’s beside the point. Now these women who post their concerns about their partner that’s cheating, will ALWAYS be encouraged in follow-up posts to continue their snooping. Rarely will the responses encourage her to actually speak with her husband and express her concerns. I’m not sure if these women replying actually have the OP’s best interests in mind or if they just want to watch the soap opera unfold.

I’ve got to admit, this sort of approach to the situation kind of boggles my mind and bothers me. I can understand the premise of wanting to gather evidence and the fact that confronting your partner would probably alert them to your suspicion and make it harder to do that. At the same time, there’s this voice in my head that wants to know why you don’t just spit it out and confront them with it.

Is it because if they ARE cheating, they’re going to lie anyway? Okay, I can see how that makes sense, but if you’ve already got proof (the evidence that sparked your suspicion in the first place), why not just use that to show them their game is up? Is it so much better to be in the relationship, constantly wonder if he’s really out with the boys rather than taking that stand?

And this is coming from one of the most non-confrontation people you’ll ever meet.

Do you not do it because you’re afraid of the consequences? You don’t want to upset them? Okay, I can see not wanting to let your partner know you’re having doubts about their fidelity. That could put a strain on the best of relationships if done the wrong way or at the wrong time. On the same token, wouldn’t a caring partner want the chance to put your concerns to rest, hopefully realizing that on our worst days, women can be totally emotionally irrational people?

I guess I just don’t understand how a grown woman can allow herself to be tortured for days on end and get to the point where she’s in tears and ready to start following her partner around without them knowing. Just to be sure they’re not cheating. I think what’s more confusing is why other women would be ENCOURAGING this behavior instead of encouraging her to stand up for herself and confront the problem.

Is it that women are just, at their core, conniving and manipulative? Do we need drama so badly that we like to draw these things out? Or is it because we’d rather wallow in the misery of a possibility than actually deal with it as a reality?

I do have to say, I have never encountered such a distrustful group of women in my life. I’ve read vents that basically encourage other women to control their husbands’ every move because they could be cheating. Things as small as forgetting a wedding ring after washing their hands or only going a certain place for haircuts.

I just do NOT understand the mentality. I’ve dealt with a partner that lied to my face and cheated behind my back, but I have never viewed men as a whole with such distrust as these women. I think the thing that amazes me the most is I’m younger than most of them.

Maybe I just haven’t been there and done that and that’s why I don’t understand. Maybe I’m too trusting and that’s why I was with someone that had been betraying my trust for months before it finally ended.

I just can’t imagine rightfully encouraging someone else to bottle up their worries and potentially get themselves into a bigger mess rather than just confronting the problem head on.

Like I said, maybe I’m weird. Maybe it’s a generational thing.

I just had to rant this out before my head exploded from confusion.

As most people know, I haven’t had health insurance for over a year now and because of this I have been paying out of pocket for any necessary medical treatment. During this time I’ve been on a specific medication that, while pricey, works well and I’m comfortable on it. Now, up until January of this year, the manufacturer of the medication provided assistance with paying for it, which was wonderful. Unfortunately they decided to take this service away from the uninsured and only offer it if you already have health insurance.

Yeah, that makes no sense to me – help the people who already have prescription coverage and pay a FRACTION of what I do. Totally fair, right?

Anyway, I got over that bump and since the change-over have been paying full price for the prescription. It’s a strain on the pocketbook, but unfortunately blood pressure isn’t something you can play with. During this time I have been using Walgreens pharmacy, exclusively because it’s convenient and they’ve never not had the medication in stock. For the past 7 months, I’ve been using the same Walgreens, which is right down the street.

Now, my first beef is the fact that everytime I go to pick it up, I’m always informed that there’s no insurance information in the system, do I know this. I always smile and nod, telling them I’m aware of that and was planning to pay full price for the medicine. I realize that it’s unusual for someone to be purchasing such a high priced medication without insurance, but it’s not like I just grew a second head. I’m not the only person in the US who doesn’t have insurance and I’m sure there are people out there paying much more than I am for other medications.

Now my second problem has been recently, after I submit for a refill online, I’ve been getting a message that there’s a delay because my insurance can’t be processed. Um, what insurance? The first time I called the person who answered, rudely informed me that my insurance was expired. I shared my surprise at this, since I don’t carry any insurance. “You realize you’ll have to pay cash then and it’s $XX.XX?” she asks, as if this is the first time I’ve ever tried to do this. I explain that I’m aware of that and haven’t had insurance for quite a while. She said she adjusted things in the computer and that my prescription would be ready for pick up the next day.

Now today, once again I get that message and the girl I speak to informs me yet again that my insurance is expired. This is after I told her at the beginning that I don’t have insurance so don’t understand what the problem is. She then, very rudely – once again – tells me I’ll have to pay cash for this. A bit exasperated I explain that I’m well aware of that and have been paying cash for quite a while now. I also tell her that I’m a little frustrated with the attitude the employees seem to approach my lack of insurance with. You’d think they’d like me better – I help improve their bottom line everytime I have to pick up my medicine. They’re getting at least $50 more out of me than any other person who walks through that door with insurance.

I just don’t appreciate the attitude and being treated like there’s something wrong with me just because I don’t have insurance. Yes, I have it now, but I don’t know if it’s going to cover my medicine yet, so I may not try and apply it to this month’s pick-up. I’m not sure yet.

All I can think is are other people who don’t have insurance faced with the same condescending attitude when they try and get medical treatment, whether it be at a doctor’s office or pharmacy. It annoys me to no end to think that the people who are having to pay the most for these treatments are somehow getting the least respect just because we don’t have a shiny plastic card with Blue Cross, CIGNA or some other insurance company’s logo on it.

Sure I have insurance now, but that doesn’t make me any better than I was before. All it really means is that my family is paying $400/mo so I can get a medication for $40 instead of $130. If it weren’t for the fact that there’s also doctors visits to consider, I’d wonder if perhaps we were getting the raw end of the deal.

So, despite my resolve that I would not get into the series, at the urging of my best friend I picked up the first book of the Twilight series. Yes, yes, I know – young adult, vampire romance. Overdone in so many ways. Really, that’s what I thought going into it, but to humor my friend (and because we do have similar tastes) I did pick it up and started reading.

And kept reading, straight through the first book, devouring the second book (in my unemployed funk). Yes, you can all imagine me hanging my head in shame, especially as I begged my husband to buy me the next two books.

Now, as I said originally, the story itself really isn’t all that original. Really, as I read more and more of it, the plot echos the basic set up of Laurel K. Hamilton’s “Anita Blake” series. You’ve got a human, you’ve got some vampires and you’ve got some werewolves. Whoops, sorry, didn’t mean to spill that little piece of plot ‘twist’. You’ve got romantic feelings that equal some sort of convoluted love-triangle. You’ve got teenage love, heartbreak and recklessness. Really nothing terribly original.

Then there’s the writing style. Again, I’m not going to claim it’s anything extraordinary or something that’s bound to become a classic twenty years down the line. Meyers does have a very relaxed, flowing writing style that makes it easy to become engrossed in the story. You don’t have to think while you’re reading, you just have to read and imagine. She does a good job of that, I’ll give her that much.

So what is it that’s got me so entwined in this, honestly, ordinary (and overdone) story?

Edward Cullen.

Unlike many of the mothers and teens that swoon over this character, it’s not that I’ve got a crush on him. His amber eyes and bronze hair don’t make me swoon. To be honest, most of the time when I picture him he’s got blue-ish eyes and dark brown hair. He’s probably stockier than Meyer intended and perhaps a little taller. Not sure on that one. However, aside from the physical differences his personality is spot on with that of the only other man that I’ve loved in my life.

Everything from the way he talks, the way he treats Bella, his mannerisms – everything is almost exactly like the person I fell in love with over 8 years ago. Granted, that person was also the product of some creative writing (some of the time) but that doesn’t make it any less captivating. Everytime I read the book and get to the sections where Edward plays a roll, my thoughts always seem to find their way back to my ex.

In the past two weeks that I’ve been reading the story, I’ve found myself missing him, a lot. After finishing a bout of reading, there’s nothing I want to do more than message him and talk to him. Tell him how much this character reminds me of him. Laugh about it with him, knowing it’s a crappy bit of writing. Talk to him about it and whatever else we happen to touch upon. It just makes me want to be in contact with him.

Add to this the fact that I will be out in his neck of the woods in just over a month and my brain has been in places I’d rather it not go. Nothing that’s immoral considering I’m married, but just … well to be honest, any trains of thought that make me think of my ex for any extended period of time are usually unwelcomed. It forces me to admit to the fact that for some ungodly reason I still love him and there are times when I really yearn for certain aspects of our relationship. Things I know will never be a part of my marriage.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and couldn’t imagine being with anyone else, but there are times when I wish he had traces of my ex’s personality. Not the less savory ones (such as phobias of showers, addictions to RPG’s), but others. Such as his conversation skills, his writing skills and understanding of that part of my personality. His protective nature when it came to me. The feeling that I could let my world rest on his shoulders and he wouldn’t let it fall to pieces (unless by his own actions, of course…)

I just – this damned series has made me start missing him again, which is quite an unfortunate development really. Especially when one gets bored and finds out that he got married earlier this year and didn’t even tell me the good news. I’m not upset that he got married, I don’t have some sudden realization that it’s really over, etc. I’m just sad that he never shared the news with me. Despite everything, the night I got engaged, he was one of the first people I told. I wanted him to know, wanted him to be happy for me. Knew that he’d be able to share in my glee. I’m just really sad that I wasn’t allowed to do that for him.

That, however, is a topic for another time and day. There are too many stick potholes of emotions I could fall into with that one.

All of this said, I would probably suggest the Twilight series to anyone that’s looking for something light and fluffy. An easy read that’s got a somewhat decent plot, that’s just original enough to not make you feel like you’re reading a reprint of another story. Edward is definely a character that will pull you in, make no doubt about it. His relationship with Bella is another part of the story that makes it worthwhile. It’s very real, while being very unreal at the same time. I think the most realistic part for me was in book two, shortly after the book began. It was so real that it hurt, to be honest.

I’m sure I’m not the only one that’s read the book that feels that way though. It’s one of those life experiences that I don’t think you can ever really forget.

When I tell my husband “We don’t need bread with that” you’d think I’d just suggested that his mother was a satan worshipper or that Smallville was being cancelled. Somewhere in his upbringing he was convinced that every meal absolutely must have some sort of bread with it.

In the almost-three years we’ve been together there hasn’t been a single grocery shopping trip that hasn’t included him wanting to raid the bakery aisle for bread. “What for?” I always ask him and his answer is always “I don’t know, dinner?”

Perhaps it’s just a sign of our very different childhoods. When I grew up we had bread with pasta dinners, Thanksgiving, Christmas, sometimes breakfast if it was a weekend and occasionally with other ’special’ dinners. In my mind the only meal that really required bread was lunch, and that’s because it was normally a ham and cheese sandwich.

My husband, on the other hand, must have bene raised in a household where there was toast, a baguette or a basket of rolls at every single meal, no matter what. In his mind a meal, even breakfast, isn’t complete without that honored bread product, lathered in butter, jelly, peanutbutter or honey sitting next to the rest of the food.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m as much of a bread addict as most of the world, however for me it isn’t a deal breaker. If there’s no toast to go with me eggs and bacon, oh well. No skin off my back, it just means I can throw on an extra slice of (turkey) bacon or another egg to offset the missing calories. Unfortunately for my hsuband it means that everything must come to a halt and we’ll just have to grab something greasy and fast-food like on our way to work, because you can’t possible have bacon and eggs without that slice (or three in his case) of buttered toast.

Needless to say there were unhappy noises made this morning when I discovered that our lack of bread,  and not lack of eggs or bacon, was why he wasn’t going to make breakfast and I wound up having a breakfast of oatmeal that doesn’t agree with my stomach instead.

I wish I knew some way to get it through his head that we don’t have to eat bread with every meal and if we don’t, it doesn’t mean we’re not eating enough or getting the right ‘nutrition’. In fact, I really need him to realize that skipping that bread once in a while is actually a good thing.

Or I suppose, I could try walking through a solid brick wall – it might be easier.

I am proud to say that I’m a member of the rare part of America society that doesn’t have cable. At the moment we’re also part of the club that doesn’t even own a television. My husband and I have been alternately TV and cable-less for the better part of 2 years now.

Does this mean we don’t watch television shows? No, it just means that we watch them using the wonderful invention called the internet. Sure, this means that we don’t get to watch the newest episode the night it appears, but it also means we’re not limited to the current network schedules. This means we get to watch or re-watch older shows that have been canceled and fall in love with characters that most people have forgotten.

Currently we are watching the 2000 television series “The Invisible Man”.

To be honest, at first I was very hesitant to watch it because it’s not really my ‘type’ of show. However, being limited to what shows we have access to I relented and am currently fairly engrossed in the second season.  I’ve found the characters to be easily related to and interesting enough to make you want to know what will happen next. I’ve even grown to enjoy Darien Fawkes’ occasional soliloquies at the beginning and scattered throughout the episodes.  It’s definitely not top-notch CSI crime-drama, but I’m not a big fan of those. There’s just enough of the ridiculous woven into the plot that it keeps me from remembering it’s a ‘crime drama’. Actually, it probably falls more into the sci-fi realm as it deals with a man who can turn invisible thanks to a special glad that his brother implanted in his brain.

Other shows we’ve watched recently have included Stargate SG-1, Dark Angel and Joan of Arcadia. I’m actually kind of amazed that in all my years of TV watching I missed all of those shows. SG-1 is just enough action/adventure to make me forget it’s also heavily Sci-Fi. Dark Angel is just a fun show and watching Jessica Alba kick butt is wonderful, however I’m very displeased with how the show was left hanging.  Joan of Arcadia is another fun show, with just the right balance of drama and laughs that I would think it’d appeal to a fairly wide audience, despite the heavy religious overtones. Again, like Dark Angel, I dislike the way the series ended. It was left completely hanging, probably because the writers didn’t realize that Joan wouldn’t make it to a third season. It’s a pity really – they set themselves up for a really awesome plotline.

Now, as we’re nearing the middle of the second season of Invisible Man, I have to wonder – what will our next TV-adventure be? I think my only hope is that it’s something that goes more than two seasons and doesn’t leave you hanging without resolution.