I don’t have them very often, but last night was a pretty sleepless night. My mind was going. I couldn’t seem to quiet it. Usually I can put on a podcast and be out in ten minutes… but every now and then I find myself listening to an entire podcast, and then another, barely managing to doze off at all…

Even though nowadays, my sleep is pretty much back to how it was before he died, sleepless nights still feel fragile. I guess they bring back the memory… the weight of the sadness through the nights. It reminds me of sleepless nights for an entire year after he died, when I didn’t sleep for more than 3 or 4 hours a night, ever. It reminds me of the heavy dread when I would manage to sleep and then wake, around 3 or 4am, and realize all over again that he was dead and it was in fact not just a bad dream.

It’s amazing how certain things stick with you. Even now, almost six years out, when I have sleepless nights I feel extra emotional. And extra drained. And I just want to hide away for the day. And that’s today…

So it’s a short post for today. And sometimes that’s okay. Sometimes there just isn’t any energy there… whether you’re trying to write a weekly post, or just trying to get out of bed and face even the smallest bit of your day. As the saying goes, some days are diamonds, some days are rocks.