I only get insomnia for two reasons.
The first reason is pretty typical: stress. With too much going on and the brain unwilling to shut off, of course it is natural for one to be unable to sleep.
The second reason would be bad sleeping habits. This includes staying up way to late one night, sleeping that off, and then your entire sleep schedule is off balanced and you’re fucked until you shift the schedule three more times in an attempt to fling it back on the right track.
However, in all honesty, I don’t have an actual insomnia that forces me to stay away for days at a time. My insomnia is more of the type that takes me forever to get to sleep, and when I do get to sleep, never wake me or else…
In all reality, my insomnia is an inconvenience. Insomnia Lite.
Tonight is more than likely a combination of the two. The wind right now is ridiculously high, and it reminds me of the nights I’d have when I lived with my parents. They live on a rather large lake, and whenever the wind got this tough, I could lift my curtain and see what the waves were doing at that moment. I always thought of our lake to have a personality of sorts, and with the wind kicking up, it looked pissed. If it were in the middle of the day, it’d be a sickly green/yellow. But at night, depending on where the moon was at, it’d be just this dark substance that had white crests, extra moons, crowding the beach.
It amazes me what water can do. I’ve always loved water. My mother says if she hadn’t known any better, I was practically born a mermaid. And it’s true. I just feel comfortable in and around water. Not even the booming waves folding upon themselves ever scared me, which just goes to prove I’ve never been out at sea during a water temper tantrum.
I remember when I was very little, probably younger than the age of four, and my parents, my brother, and I were at our cabin at the time (which, incidentally, my parents now live on in another house). It was an old cabin, with a crawlspace for a basement. I remember being very confused because the lake was calm, and so seemed the air, but the sky was a bit yellow, and my parents huddled us to a neighbor down the way to use their basement as there was a tornado warning. Nothing was happening, but I wanted to see the lake. I was allowed to look outside. The adults kept trying to find the funnels, but I was looking at the horizon.
That’s when I saw something streaking across the lake, small, but very fast. I think it was a jet ski, but no one could tell if there was anybody on it. At the time, I wasn’t scared of what was happening, but a year or two later, the incident came back to my mind. I had never seen a tornado before. How did they work? I could only think of the Tasmanian Devil, and that confused me further as why would Taz be lurking on a lake to steal a person from a jet ski?
I promise you, I wasn’t a completely stupid child.
I think that is why I am up now, though. I’ve lived on a lake my entire life, even while in college. Whenever the wind picks up, I think of that day, and I wonder how the lake is responding. Back then, it was so calm. I didn’t believe my parents’ concerns for tornadoes back then when the lake was so calm.
Twister has since then taught me everything I need to know.
However, every time I hear those high winds, pushing against the sides of the house, I keep expecting to hear the sound of crashing waves afterwards. Talking to me. Telling me how it is. The next day, I’d find things on the beach, from sea glass to old bobbers, whatever the waters regurgitated in their sputtering chatter. But I know I’ll wake up tomorrow, here in the city, and I won’t find special treasures laid out for me to find. I’ll look out my window, and it will be a few trees with road between them. And I won’t know the lake gossip.
Yet my ears, my body, reverberates in anticipation for that sound I know from every stage of my life with every gasp the air takes outside of where I live. Exhaustion will finally hit. I will sleep. But I have a pretty good idea of what I’ll be dreaming of.