My latest obsession started two weeks ago. A new dentist studied my bite and mentioned that I could have sleep apnea. It was a seemingly innocent suggestion, and I’m sure he was just trying to help. He recommended a sleep doctor for me to visit, and that the doctor might advise a sleep study. So I went home, thinking, maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s why I wake up so tired and restless and why I seem to wake up at least once a night, or catch myself snoring. And I remember all the comments friends and lovers have made about my snoring, saying it was loud enough to scare bears and saw wood. 

 

So I made an appointment with a sleep doctor in three weeks (the latest availability) but I haven’t been able to shake off thinking about this. I think about my breathing at night. I think about my breathing during the day, when I’m doing computer work or when I’m in a meeting. Auugh . I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. I start adjusting my bite, breathing a sigh of air and testing my breath in different ways. I always feel like I’m hyperventilating, probably from the OCD, but now I’m looking for a solution to what I had largely dismissed so easily before. Of course my breathing is ok. I run a mile twice a week, and certainly I wouldn’t be able to do that if there was a serious issue with my lungs. 

 

So when all is said and done, a strange part of me is actually hoping that I have sleep apnea, so I can try a physical remedy to what ails me. (Always being tired, always anxious, and edgy). If it’s not, then I’m back to trying to fix it in my head, which, if the past few years are any indication, is a murky path. 

 

I bought a book on mediation, which helped when I was vacationing in New York. I thought it was another silver bullet in my fight against This. But it’s no panacea. On occasion, I could convince myself to watch my thinking, to watch my judgments of life and the moment, and strive to “live moment-to-moment”. I could sometimes feel at peace while I read the book, and sometimes fall asleep on the plane or the bus in an uncomfortable position. I haven’t made the time to go back to it, but it’s always on my To Do List, after Working Out and Cooking My Own Meals. 

 

My therapist is the only person I really talk to these days. 

 

John, a good friend of mine, has become a serious heroin addict (it’s happened over the course of the last few years) and I’ve come to a painful conclusion that he will never change and I’ve really curtailed my contact with him. I hardly ever let a friendship languish, partly because I feel I have so few strong connections, but also because I habitually obsess over other people’s pain. But I have definitely felt the effects of not speaking to him. I have definitely felt more isolated. 

 

Another friend, Laura, has given me the cold shoulder over the past few months, and I’ve felt hurt that she won’t confide anything to me anymore, even a bad day at work or family issues. So I’ve thought, “Fine. I know when I’m not appreciated.” But I’m still hurt. Am I not nice to her? Am I not willing to listen to anything she has to say, without judgment? Gddammit, why do I keep these dysfunctional relationships?

 

I am alright, though. I just got hired on full time at my job. I’m single and relatively healthy. I think I’m just writing this as a release. I’m writing this to avoid going back to the old relationships and patterns that keep me boxed in. I’m going to keep going to the gym. I’m going to go back to my personal trainer. I’m going to try to cook healthy stuff for myself at home. And I’m going to stop isolating myself.  Thanks for listening.