insomnia

Posted February 22nd, 2005 by Michelle

Often, when I eat lunch at work, my stomach is so twisted into knots that I basically just push my way through and hope the eating is done quickly. It’s not that I’m curing cancer or saving lives here, but I do feel a fair amount of pressure. Particularly today, after staring at the ceiling during four of the eight hours I was hoping to sleep, and when I have the once yearly- ONCE YEARLY- meeting with my Advisory Board. I’m distracted and spacy from no sleep, and I’m doing my best to pull myself together. I got an incredible donation in the mail today from a local business, and I’m having a hard time finding the joy in that good news- it’s so fuzzy in my brain right now. I’m also starting to lose hope that I will be able to find the funding to sustain my organization. Theatre here is almost dead; if my organization goes away, so does all the networking for the visual artists. I’m a little broken-hearted today. Usually I find great solace that people are talking about the issues facing the arts; usually, just that the meeting today is happening is enough to keep me afloat. And tomorrow, we launch a new program that I am so deeply proud of. And yet, all I want to do is curl up in the 60-degree sunshine and take a nap.

I’ve noticed a phenomenon in my recent life: when you are soft of body, as I am rather right now, people mistake you for being soft of spirit. It’s a dangerous mistake that I see happening, even in those close to me who haven’t known me any other way. It makes me feel less close to all of them. When people who love you have no real concept of your depth, of your capabilities, you almost resent them, and you long to be understood.

I’ve been missing New York so much it hurts, down deep below my stomach. I don’t miss many of my friends from there, but I do miss my family, and I miss the roads and the potholes and the bridges and the electricity in the air.

My meeting is in two hours. And then I may have to go back to bed.