The nap itself was relatively uneventful though I did battle with actually falling asleep for a little while. I was feeling a little tired and I wanted to nap (we’re going out again tonight) but the mind and body would not cooperate. At one point I even turned around and stared at Steve as he got up for a moment to take a drink of water and he said to me “if you can’t go to sleep, get out of bed and stop bothering me”. Nice of him, eh?
So sleeping, dreaming, waking.
One of the things I dislike most about afternoon naps (along with waking up late in the morning) is the dreams - the weird, uncontrollable, incomprehensible dreams.
I don’t particularly remember this dream except it involved a night market in the streets, eating, a little girl with a weird sounding, hard to pronounce Chinese name that looked like a pretty version of Mrs Potato Head and my sister.
What really gets me is that after the dreams there is a lingering feeling of suspension – when I do not know if I’m awake or asleep.
I’m dreaming, I wake up, I’m still asleep, but I’m awake and I’m conscious … sort of, but I’m asleep.
I feel like I’m swimming against the current being constantly pulled under and I’m fighting against the undertow.
This is a painting titled "Undertow" I found on the Internet. I thought it depicted the feeling in an image the feeling I was trying to convey very well.
I’m struggling with all of my might, my muscles try to fight it, but I can’t move.
I’m still dreaming.
I’m trying to wake up.
I’m still asleep.
This cycle repeats itself over and over again until … finally … with super human effort I give one final huge push and I reach the surface.
I’m finally awake, but I’m groggy, my head is stuffy and I feel like I’m suffering from a bad hangover - all of this without alcohol.
Anyway, I leave you with this little beauty because it’s a much pretty picture than looking at one of me sleeping.
Ps. I don’t know who he is.