Golden Slumbers

Sleep has never been an easy thing for me. I've never arisen in the morning, rolled merrily out of bed, greeted the day with a dramatic stretch, and proceeded onward magically refreshed and full of energy. I see people who go running at 6AM and think they must be on cocaine. In my life, sleep does not equal rest. Sleep is a tense, draining struggle. I wake up feeling just as tired, if not more exhausted than when I went to bed. I chew through mouth guards that are not meant to be chewed through. I wake up sore, feeling like I've just spent the night being dragged through the woods by a pack of wolves. The fuzzy-headed feeling never quite leaves. I pass through my days in some measure of a daze, never knowing what it's like to have a clear mind. I cannot fall asleep during daylight - even if I've been up all night. Deep down at times, I feel like I have to be awake to see the sun. To be asleep while it is above the horizon would be to miss something...significant.

But it has gotten better. Lately things aren't so severe. Perhaps my body (or mind) has adjusted to my turbulent sleeping habits as I've grown older. The dreams are still abnormally detailed and strange, but more and more I have dreams that continue from previous nights.

And then there is McCready. This mustached, smiling man dressed like a villain in a Western. But he doesn't scare me. My instincts tell me I should be afraid - very afraid, but I'm not.