It’s true. Ask anyone. I literally came out of the womb with circles under my eyes. It’s like I knew the life ahead of me was going to be chaotic as fuck so I was already exhausted for the battle that lay ahead.
As a baby, I fell asleep everywhere at any time. To this day, put me in the passenger seat and I’m out in two seconds. A road trip for me is just one long beautiful slumber. Wake me when we’re there. You go look at the Grand Canyon I’ll just stay in the car and nap.
In my mom’s belly, shit was already nuts. She took a serious fall on the icey steps of our upper west side apartment in New York when she was pregnant with me. The doctor told her I could come out at any time so be ready. And when I fell out into the world they barely had time to check her in. She almost delivered me on a the nurse’s desk. My mom likes to add, “They didn’t even have time to take off my jewelry or shave me.”
Ugh. She loves sharing details. Details you never want to hear out of the mouth of your mom but are forever stuck in your brain. But, I admit, it’s those details that have defined me. Is it any wonder I’m a writer who lives for details? Don’t short change me on a story unless you’re a shitty storyteller. Then, please just cut to the chorus and let me pay my bill and go.
So. Sleepy. Right.
I marvel at people with energy. People who don’t need to… “just gonna lie down for a little bit” — CONK. People who can drive in traffic without falling asleep at the wheel. People who check things off their “lists” and still have zing for that 8 p.m. pilates class.
It’s actually a miracle all the things I’ve accomplished with this level of compromised energy. I often wonder what I could have done with full tank of gas.
And before you ask — yes, I am anemic so I have to get my iron in. And yes, I was diagnosed years ago with clinical depression so I take anti -depressants. And yes, I struggled with addiction so I got sober. And yes, I’ve had trauma and dealt with all of it in therapy.
Trust me, I’ve ticked every damn thing off the list to figure out why I’m so fucking tired.
But here’s the thing. And I’m only just connecting this now. By trying to get to the bottom of my ailment I had to explore all those roads. All those streets. All those houses. And it’s all those roads, streets and houses that have led to me having the most beautiful life imaginable. A life of gratitude, self care, sobriety, forgiveness, motherhood, service and serenity.
A life of being present. Dare I say, awake. Ah, the irony.
So, thank you, sleepy baby Susan. Thank you. Without you I might never have searched for answers and solutions. Without being utterly exhausted from the day I entered this world I might never have landed exactly where I was meant to be.
Here. Now. Alive.
Thank you, Susan.
Haven’t seen a post in a while.
I wonder if I should take a nap now?