Failure Mode

Well, I had intended to do #domagick, and then I didn’t have any “research” to share on what I wanted to do so I figured I’d just, you know, do magic. I’ve been working on sewing a backpack/possibles bag and the more I’ve worked on it, the more it’s taken on a life and personality of its own. She had very strong opinions about shape and structure that differed from what I’d planned, and now I’m working on a late addition – turning an old Captain America t-shirt into an applique that is being over-embroidered.

The plan is to work on it every day until it is done, because follow through is not my strong point.

So then why is the post called Failure Mode? Well, I woke up at about 4:30 AM and realized I had not worked on it the night before. It turns out I’m a great deal more okay with that than I expected. There was a time not that long ago when I would have been having a scrupulosity freakout – and a time slightly less long ago when I would have thought I was okay with it but still been worrying about how best to atone or whatever.

It was understandable. We’ve been working with Bug on self-identifying when she needs help calming down, and one of the ways we do that is by having her sit with me on the couch in the semi-dark and listen to lullaby music videos on YouTube. It’s not at all surprising that sometimes one or both of us falls asleep there.

So I woke up and I did last night’s stitching, and it is what it is.

And now I’m going back to bed.

Who Needs Sleep?

I’ve never been good at sleeping. At fifteen, I was staying up late enough to watch Alternative Nation on MTV after my parents had gone to bed. By my senior year, I was regularly up late enough to watch Sailor Moon reruns at five before doing most of my napping in math class. College was just an excuse to go further – at one point I worked a part time job that started at midnight and got out just in time for me to go to class. Adulthood has brought the occasional traditional work schedule, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

A lot of people have nighttime issues with anxiety. Sometimes I am one of those people, feeling left alone and utterly isolated by the fears playing through my mind. But more often I find the darkness a relief. It’s the time when my mind functions best. I get most of my reading done, and the best of my writing, in the dark.

Tonight I’m up for a combination of reasons. Partially because I was reading an excellent book – fiction, and so not fodder for this blog, unfortunately – and partially because of a strange sort of situation that you may find hard to believe if you’re not familiar with anxiety. You see, I am anxious because I’m not anxious.

I have difficulty flying. In part this is due to my vertigo and inner-ear issues; beyond that, some of it stems from experiences flying, though there’s been nothing really traumatic. I have to travel for work next week, and I really ought to be a basket case. I ought to be thinking all sorts of irrational things. I ought to be imagining a hundred terrible physical issues I could have while thousands of miles up. I ought to be considering quitting my job to avoid it. I know I ought to be doing all these things because they’re what I usually do.

I’m doing none of them. I’m almost as blasé about travelling for business as I was when I was gone two weeks out of four in my last job. And the fact that I’m not worried just makes me nervous. I know I say this a lot, but I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Oh, I’m not a wreck now, that means I’ll just be worse later…”

As tradeoffs go, that’s a pretty good one. I definitely prefer this to a screaming panic attack. But I can’t say it doesn’t make me long for a day when I won’t worry about worrying to begin with.

And I don’t dare say I think I’m making progress… I don’t want to tempt the fates into noticing. Though if I’m going to keep working with Laima, I guess I have to get used to the idea of having fate’s attention, for better or worse.