Short nights with too much thinking.

535

I have lain awake since 3am, twirling and whirling both physically and mentally.
I get moments when I wish I was a better person, and I am coming close to that feeling now. I suppose now I am up and doing stuff it will fade away, but it is such an awful sensation. It has lessened over the years, diminishing a little each time and coming less and less frequently, but it is the saddest, most flaying sensation. As though one is tearing flesh from oneself.

I have been aware that the pain of death passed, and it was an intense series of sensations, leading into a holiday. A period of just being. But the eternal questioning has returned. The endless wondering why we are here. What is the point. Does it have to be so eternal. Am I really supposed to work all the hours God sends for the rest of my life. Is there any way not to have to. How can I educate my children as I want to if I don’t work forever more. I have given up on question marks. They would dominate the entire page.

I watch my husband loathing the fact that he does not have a title for his life, and long not to have one for mine. It is so ironic and mad.

So I lay awake this morning and tried to make sense of it all. Of course I have failed miserably, which is obvious by my text.

We have done well recently in the business. What does that mean? Sold well, given away catalogues etc. Now we have to invest more. Work harder and make it bigger. Then sell more. An endless cycle of life that I am having trouble understanding.

And at the same time I do not know what my life would be if I did not do that. Would I just lie there? Would I immediatly invest in another project? It is all a mystery that I just cannot fathom today.