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The Eclectic Pen - Sleepwalker

By: Paula H. (PJean63)  
Date Submitted: 2/4/2007
Genre: Biographies & Memoirs » Memoirs
Words: 368

  Slowly. If anyone asks how one goes about being a sleepwalker, I would tell them, slowly.
A person doesn't suddenly get put to sleep. Not at all. It creeps, silently upon you. It starts with the little things. Increments. It isn't good intentions which pave the way to Hell but rather all the expectations that one lowers to try and achieve those intentions.
I don't believe I ever said, "Gee, okay, so he refuses to pick up his laundry and take it out to be washed. That's a non-issue; plenty of men don't do housework." However; the result was the same. I lowered my expectations of a responsible adult. Too smooth over the rough edges of the relationship, I gave up my expectations of sharing the household work. I convinced myself it wasn't important. Item by item, until finally my expectations were unimportant. I was unimportant. What I wanted and needed didn't matter.
Shhhh. Don't argue. Shhh, quiet, don't struggle. It will be painless. Just slowly, go. to sleep.
Until 14 years later.
The sleeper awakes and wonders why she is living in Hell and how she got there.
Hell. Well, now. That is an interesting place. Waking up there...not so much.
And then there is Rage.
The screaming Rage living inside your head when you realize you've been sleepwalking. And worst of all, you are the one who put yourself to sleep.
The awakening can be slow, or not. Often when the sleepwalker begins to wake, they will soothe themselves back to sleep. Perhaps it isn't as deep as before, until like a kaleidoscope, the picture snaps together, and the sleeper awakens. Then all bets are off.
Eyes no longer wide-shut, but dilated so that no light could possibly escape.
And Rage must be paid. Only sacrifice will appease. On the alter of Rage I laid my life of 14 years. Rage was appeased and retreated to its' Hellish domain. Leaving me awake.
Eyes open to the possibilities of expectations met, not lowered.
Eyes to see the paving of new roads less traveled.
I am awake, god help me, and I am not sleepwalking my way down this new road. The only one sleeping now is Rage. May He remain in slumber for I have nothing left for his alter.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Paula H. (PJean63)

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Comments 1 to 5 of 5
IONE L. (zaneygraylady) - 2/4/2007 4:12 PM ET
I can relate to this
katzpawz - 2/5/2007 1:59 PM ET
OUCH! I'm willing to bet there are many, many "sleepwalkers" out there who can identify with your writing. Well done - and I hope it helped cleanse! Blessings to a new Wide-Awake!
Terri S. - 2/5/2007 2:01 PM ET
Very nicely written. How many women can see themselves in this....several I am sure.
Claudia (BrokenWing) - 2/5/2007 7:28 PM ET
interesting story. I think this tends to happen to women alot more than men. women are encouraged by society to always put their needs and wants last, after the needs of their husbands and families. unfortunately, the death of dreams can be the death of hope and life as well. at least you've awakened now and can take steps to change the situation. It would be terrible to realize on one's deathbead that one had sacrificed one's entire life for no good reason.
Marta J. (booksnob) - 2/6/2007 3:52 PM ET
This made me squirm because, God help me, I am a sleepwalker!
Comments 1 to 5 of 5