Well, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. again and couldn’t go back to sleep—made it until 7:00, couldn’t take it anymore, and got up. Didn’t have a lot of caffeine yesterday—so I don’t think that’s what this is. Something else is happening, something that started with the medication change and something that has been exacerbated by whatever I am going through right now. I’m taking 100 mg of trazadone a night, so this shouldn’t be happening, and makes me wonder how miserable I might be without it, or if it’s possibly backfiring somehow—I don’t know. Maybe I should drop back down to 50 mg and see what happens—but I don’t want the whole thing to get worse—to have, basically, a miserable night with no sleep, so I might not do that, I don’t know. It’s very frustrating as getting a good night’s sleep, in my opinion, is essential to being truly happy. That is to say, both you cannot be truly happy if you are not getting a good night’s sleep, and, furthermore, you are not truly happy in the first place if you are not getting a good night’s sleep. So, if you made some change to your life, you could probably be happier, and more yourself, in real life.
I was up until around 11:20 last night—it was a little easier to watch TV and read, so that seemed like progress, but I still didn’t get to sleep fast enough. Anyhow, I suspect excessive caffeine use will be a problem, but I’m not drinking excessive caffeine, and this is still happening, so I don’t see why, since I got up early this morning, I shouldn’t have three cups of coffee instead of two. If caffeine is not the ultimate cause of my sleeping troubles, and it’s something else, which, I’m certain, now, at least part of the problem, indeed, is something else, then drinking less caffeine when I want a little more seems a little unnecessary and even unfair. So everything, right now, is changing—we’re going to start eating dinner at 6:30 instead of 6:00—and I’m open to whatever might make me happier and more relaxed, both throughout the day, and throughout the night. It even seems that making some small adjustment throughout the day—an extra cup of coffee, for example, if I really want one, might make it easier, in the end, to sleep throughout the night, in some backward and yet somehow logical way—that a happy day will lead to happy night, etc.
But if the caffeine leads to heart pains, then that is not going to work, either; so, basically, there’s not a whole lot I can do—I’ve gotten a smaller table for my mouse, to help with my neck pains; I quit working earlier in the day, in order to relax and help my neck heal, and in order to develop an existence, no matter how imaginary, that is not associated with work; I’ve started drinking more tea during the day, so less fizzy drinks, and then drinking fizzy water, ginger ale, and or root bear while watching TV; I’ve taken to watching moderate amounts of pornography—to access and inspire the part of my life that is truly missing right now, i.e., a partner, and a sex life; I’ve switched back to coffee in the morning; so, I’m down to one or two diet Dr. Pepper’s around 11:00 or 12:00. I’ve started showering a little before bed, to wash off the day, and help me relax—to be as clean as i would want to be, if I did have a sex life; I’ve cut way back on AI use; I’ve cut way back on physics; I no longer expect myself to write enough music to become known for it—or to be the greatest artist that ever lived—I understand the simple importance of just being good, and doing just what is necessary without wasting energy, and being famous, in heaven, just for that. I’ve been praying more regularly; I’ve gone back to listening to my clock and counting more—and taking measured, mindful breaths. And I’ve decided to read, and started reading, only that which I want to read—not something boring—just because the author won a Nobel prize, or because it’s popular for some intellectual reason. And, finally, I’ve started eating a little during the day, as long as I don’t get heavier than 170 pounds. I’ve made all these changes in the past five weeks or so, on top of the medication changes I started making about three months ago. So I guess I should expect some degree of chaos—although all of these changes are designed to help me accept my true self, and become more comfortable in my own skin. They are, in effect, essential changes born of necessity, of hitting a wall—I’ve been forced to adapt, and all would be satisfactory, so far, except for the sleeping troubles, which must iron themselves out, eventually, and, if they don’t, then God must help me figure out what I can do, what more I can do, to iron them out myself.
Also, I think I’ll shower around 8:30 instead of around 7:30, as it seems easier to relax, for longer, that way, and, finally, I’ll start my decaf Earl Grey tea routine tomorrow—drinking tea throughout the day, tea that should help with mental clarity and relaxation as much as any decaf tea can, at least from what I gather. The only remaining possible change, that, right now, I can think of, that I might make—and I’m reluctant to do this, but, if, without the risperidone, I am simply not meant to sleep longer than eight or nine hours, which, for the average person, would seem to be the case, and I may be no different, no matter how much I slept in the past, then I might start getting up around seven instead of eight—so I’m not trying to force something, and making myself miserable, lying in bed with nothing but my thoughts to entertain me, for too long. Somehow I don’t like the idea of staying up later than my father, who goes to bed around 11:00 or 12:00—I think I should probably be in bed by 10:30 and lights out by 11:30 tops. So, even if the average American only sleeps seven hours, I don’t know that I would be able to occupy myself if I slept less than eight hours, and, besides, I think people, in general, should sleep about eight hours, to help our brains, and give our unconscious and our subconscious time to work, and repair. That meant that if I started getting up around seven, I should be asleep by 11:00. Which sounded about right, I guess, if, that is, I’m not meant to sleep ten hours, as has been my habit for over the past decade. That would mean staying up about an hour later than I ever really have in my life, in the past, but I really didn’t want to get up any earlier than 7:00, and if I only needed eight hours of sleep, well, that was how the math worked out, so maybe, in fact, despite how I have lived in the past, that would be best.
Living then, as if you’d live, if I was there? That was the idea, pretty much—thinking that I should treat myself the way I would treat myself if I had a partner, which, generally speaking, in my case, I tend to indulge myself more when I have a partner—when it’s just me, I guess, in the past, I haven’t always seen the point, or, somehow, I’ve been protesting the fact that I don’t have a partner, like some kind of juvenile hunger strike or something. Now, I must ask, would my partner find me vain—for taking a shower at night? Would she shower at night? Would I want her to? I guess I would have to play all that by ear, and do what works out naturally, but it seemed to me that, because most sex would take place in bed, either at night or in the morning—well, I wouldn’t have to be 100 percent clean to have sex, but, in a way, I wanted to be, as I had more confidence that way, and, in a way, I wanted my partner to be clean, too, so I could do whatever I wanted to her without hesitation—going entirely on impulse, so I thought it would be nice if she kept herself a little extra clean, for the sake of our sex life. You could still have sex if you weren’t entirely clean—but it might not be as pleasant, or you might be reluctant to do something that you might otherwise want to do, etc., so, in general, I thought: be clean for bed, and, throughout the day, if you have sex, stick to more normal sex, unless you’re just feeling particularly adventurous, and your partner isn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable. So yes, the whole point, I think, was to indulge myself in every way possible way that still maintained my sobriety, whether it be more TV, an extra shower, a slightly longer shower, or whatever, as if I had a partner, as if we were already living together. As for normal versus abnormal sex—well, I anticipated a partner that was into all forms of sex on a regular basis—not just repeated vaginal intercourse, so I didn’t think there would be any problem—she would want to keep herself clean, and she would want me to keep myself clean, too. I guess you didn’t necessarily have to take a shower to do that—you could wash up like whores do, between sessions, or whatever, but, in my case, anyhow, at least right now, it seemed that a shower helped me to relax, to take a short break from watching TV, and besides, I felt refreshed all over, when I did—not that I sweat a lot, but, well, you shed skin cells throughout the day, your hair might get a little greasy, even if you don’t sweat a lot, your armpits might sweat a little, especially if you’re like me, and you don’t like to wear deodorant, at least not the rub on kind—perhaps I should look into the spray on kind—that’s a possibility, etc.