Lots of thoughts in my head. My mind is exhausted, I am sleepy and tired, but my body is buzzing. It does not do what it is supposed to do when it is time to sleep. My eyes feel tired, I feel sleepy, but sleep does not come.

As soon as I close my eyes and get myself in a comfortable position, my thinking mind comes centre stage and starts her monologue. It is always long, generally focused on whatever is annoying or stressing me more.

My ears start picking up a few noises and deciding if tonight my sleep will be affected by it. I put the headphones, click on the noise cancelling button. I put one of the two pieces of music that normally lulls me to sleep. Tonight, it does not work. Tonight, sleep does not come.

The thinking mind comes in and continues with her show.

It is a small intimate stage. There are red velvet curtains behind her, a stool and a microphone at the front. The lights focus solely on her. She is wearing her best sparkly dress and is looking ravishing.

At this point, what with no distractions to compete with, all attention can finally be on her. She loves being the centre of attention.

In tonight’s monologue, we have a lot of focus on the situation at work. Many sentences have been started, the perfect case has been drafted in thought, many times. She keeps repeating it, perfecting different sentences.

Other random thoughts join in. The conversation I had with my friend; did I talk too much? Did I take over the whole conversation? The feeling of embarrassment makes a brief appearance on stage. You blink, and you miss it. The thinking mind loves the stage to herself too much, so another thought comes up; and then another.

We come back to the work situation and another sentence gets repeated and composed.

The thought that notices that I am still not asleep, presents itself. The absence of that little squeak sound I make just as my body finally starts relaxing, is noted.

And so, here I am. Out of bed, journal out, pen to paper.

The eyes are still heavy, I am still sleepy, my body is still achy.                   

As I write, I try to remove as many thoughts as possible out of my thinking mind and into paper. Taking away her thunder, her centre stage. She hates me for it, but I must find ways that will help me sleep, rest, recharge.

It took me hours to get to sleep. It was not a restful night, but eventually sleep did come.  

By Pelagia Pais (29 October 2021)