Is it any wonder I'm tired?

So very very tired. W is still waking up multiple times a night. Sometimes 5. Sometimes 3. There is no rhyme or reason to it. It is what it is. I remember when I went through this with Angus. On the nights where he would sleep well I would obsessively try to remember what I had done during the day that lead up to it to figure out what had made it happen. Then I would try to repeat the sequence of events to the letter to duplicate the outcome. It never worked. But I guess it was nice to feel occasionally like I was in control of the situation when really I wasn't.
In therapy last week I didn't have a chance to pick up my customary latte before my session and my therapist (who from now on I will call Dr. M) commented on how tired I looked. Well, duh. But she said it in a nice, caring way. I told her that W still wasn't sleeping consistently well and she had had a rough night. We discussed how it is harder for me to block the intrusive thoughts and anxiety when I am tired. So we tried to brainstorm some ideas on how I could get more rest to feel better. Because I am running on about a year's worth of sleep deprivation and it is not really working. To say the least.
She disclosed that her daughter was six so she had a hard time remembering what worked and what didn't. Some of her ideas made me want to laugh maniacally.
Here are some of her suggestions:
"Keep her awake at night and put her to bed later."
"Don't let her sleep as much during the day."
"Don't nurse her to sleep when she wakes at night."
Ah, it all seems so simple, doesn't it? When typed out, the three suggestions above seem like something even an idiot could do. Really, these things are almost insultingly easy.
Oh, how I laughed in the car on the way home. Laughed so hard that I cried. And cried. And cried. Fatigue can do that to you. Make something that is deathly serious seem hilariously funny.
I had an epiphany at Wal-mart last week. Right in the produce aisle. In the static of my brain I had a moment of clarity so sharp that it was almost painful.
My son was making some kind of repetitious, extremely annoying noise at a frequency that only three year olds can reach. My daughter was beginning to cry because she was tired (wonder why?). A box of diapers kept falling off the bottom of my cart onto the floor. My left breast was leaking milk through my shirt.
And then the world stopped. There was a hush and then a hum. All at once I realized...
This is what insanity sounds like.
The sound of a three year old chanting and a baby howling. The hum of people talking around you. The announcements over the loud speaker. Squeaky shopping wheels. The cacophony of every day life combined with the sound of your children freaking out.
The urge to scream welled up within me. Okay, not just a scream. A howl from the depths of my soul combined with frantic running around and pulling of my hair. Maybe some face clawing for shits and giggles. How satisfying would that be? Just to absolutely fucking lose it in the middle of Wal-Mart. To just run around screaming and pushing people out of the way.
The idea was so seductive that I almost gave in to it. Is it against the law to run around screaming? I suppose they could escort you out. And tell you not to come back. That would suck because they have such low, low prices. So I guess that is out. If anything, the thought brought a smile to my face.
Really the government should investigate sleep deprivation combined with a 3 year old and a 6 month old freaking out as an alternative to water boarding. Just record that noise along with the ambient sounds of an average Wal-mart and play it over and over after a detainee has been woken up the night before every two hours by a howling baby's cries. And wait.
I don't know, that almost seems too cruel and unusual doesn't it?
Back to the cuckoo's nest.