I’m gradually learning that if I have wine in the evening, I have trouble sleeping that night. Gradual connections are being made, one night at a time. Last night I had wine, and then I lay awake. First I kept seeing shadows down the hall, made by cars driving by, and thinking they were the shadows of people creeping around in the house. Then, when I’d reminded myself that a cat can’t walk across our floors without making a creak with every step, I started thinking I heard Furtive Sounds, perhaps PEOPLE TRYING TO BREAK IN. That went NOWHERE GOOD, let me tell you. At one point I realized that my entire body was tense, including clenched fists, and that I’d spent the last five minutes or so imagining defending myself against intruders with a floor lamp: I could bash them with it for awhile, and there would be pointy glass when the bulbs broke, and if I got the upper hand I could use the cord to strangle them. I’d gone on to imagine that they’d lost consciousness–OR SEEMED TO–and what would I do to make SURE they were either dead or incapacitated until the police could get here? If I have learned one thing from movies, it’s that you don’t get overconfident that a Downed Attacker is actually down. So would I do something that would stain both my hardwood floors and potentially my conscience (though I think it’s highly unlikely I’d struggle with my conscience if it was an intruder in a house with my children)? and what would I use to do it? and would it be easy (because I’d be so scared) or would it be much harder than I expected it to be? and boy, I wish there was such a thing as a gun that would materialize only when needed. Or would I…somehow tie his hands and feet (with what? and I couldn’t really leave him to go root around in the dark basement for some rope) and then call 911?
This was when I noticed every single muscle was tightened up and my fingernails were hurting my palms. And also realized that the floor lamp I’d been envisioning grabbing with one swift smooth action-hero-like motion (ha ha, now I’m picturing James Bond wielding an attractive floor lamp) is one we Freecycled a few months back because we never used it. And the other floor lamp in the room is plugged in behind the bureau, so I’d have to shift the bureau, then lean as far as I could and make sound-wave shapes with the cord until the plug wiggled out of the socket, etc.
So I tried to think of something more relaxing, but instead my mind drifted to something that had been bugging me earlier in the day, which was the word “jailbait.” I hadn’t given the word much thought over the years, since I don’t move in circles that have a use for such a word. I started out feeling that the word was mildly icky and wrong, and by the time I’d thought the thing out thoroughly, I was ready to go back and EAGERLY take out some feelings on that imaginary intruder, perhaps by lifting the entire bureau and slamming it onto him. I wish we didn’t even HAVE that word. It isn’t that I don’t UNDERSTAND why we have the word; OH I UNDERSTAND WHY WE HAVE IT. That is the PROBLEM: that I think I see exactly why we have that word, instead of just having the word “teenager.” “Bait” implies a trap, a set-up. Men are being LURED by this child, TRICKED into a TRAP by…the child? society? And so they resist the child, NOT because it would be wrong to get involved with a child, NOT because they are personally icked out by the idea, NOT because they are horrified at the thought of accidentally getting involved with someone so young—but because of the potential for jail, and because they are too wily and clever to be trapped. Jailbait. And congratulating themselves. I hate everybody. Please turn me loose on a building scheduled for demolition, so I can gnaw on it until I feel better.
Oh, I do the lying awake thing, thinking I hear noises and generally working myself up into a tizzy. It’s frustrating but in the dark it seems perfectly likely, even though in the morning I think I was just ridiculous.
I find watching TV – nothing remotely scary of course – helps sometimes if D is gone and other times I just try to count to 100 as boring-ly as I can.
I had a dream two nights ago that I witnessed a murder and now I was going to have to turn in this murderer, which I am usually all for, but this time, my family was in danger because there was going to be revenge after I did the right thing. I woke up sweating and spent hours reliving it and working out all the details of how I was going to keep my family safe and still turn in the murderer. (The murderer was some random guy I kind of knew in high school, by the way. Maybe I should see what he is up to.) I had to turn on Modern Family on the DVD player before I could get over this enough to go to sleep again.
Late/Middle of the night racing thoughts are one of my least favorite things. It’s so hard to shut down the “brain on speed”. No more wine before bed!
Ugh. The midnight mind escalator is the worst. You know you should be going down the down escalator, but instead you’re going down the up escalator and it keeps moving you up and up and up away from sleep.
The only thing that ever helps me is focusing very hard – and it’s tough, because the negative thoughts are strong – on something benign. Like taking a walk along a favorite path, and envisioning each step of the way from the originating point to the destination. Sometimes I also list things in my mind that I’m grateful for, or list good qualities of my husband. But if I’m especially tired and high-strung, this can sometimes lead to weeping at how fortunate I am and how undeserving and well, that’s not conducive to sleep either.
Ambien is your friend.
<3
When my brain goes into overdrive, I focus on breathing. I used to try counting sheep, but, seriously? that’s kind of ridiculous. So I count each breath – backwards from 100. Helps. And if I lose track, I start over. Where’m I going?
Re: the jailbait thing. When my son was about 18-19, he met a young lady who, it turns out, was like 15, maybe 16. Girls like to “grow up” younger and younger – and boys are, well, they’re just kind of dumb at that age.
Both of them knew the consequences of this “relationship” (I know they did because I explained it to them in Great Detail), and, to give him credit, he did try to stay away from her. She actively pursued him – did I mention that teenage boys are kind of dumb? (In hindsight, she had some issues, and I think she was looking for a Baby Daddy – which she eventually found – somewhere else.) Fortunately, the whole thing died out before anything MAJOR happened, but that girl?
Jailbait, for sure.
Wow. That’s all I can say about that thought process haha
Oh, and beer. It’s nasty but it’s definitely a sleep inducer.
You could tie his hands up with the cord from the lamp, of course.
Now I’m wondering if having wine before bed gives me trouble sleeping too. I hope not, because I LOVE wine.
“If I have learned one thing from movies, it’s that you don’t get overconfident that a Downed Attacker is actually down.”
But WHY has no one in movies learned this??!!
Well, here’s to a 10am glass of wine instead of a 10pm glass of wine. I mean, really, that is your only option!!
Hey Swistle, how was Elizabeth’s follow up doctor’s appointment? Did she work up the nerve to ask about the scab!?
I keep a machete behind my headboard in easy reach. When I think I hear someone trying to break in I imagine the look on the intruders face when he sees my buck naked overweight saggy machete wielding self coming at him.
Always sends me into fits of laughter.
One of the things my sleep doc had me do to overcome my insomnia was give up alcohol, esp in the evenings because while it makes you sleepy it really interferes with your brain function for REM & can keep you awake.
I have to have my wine EARLY in the evening or I wake up at odd hours of the night. I have been having a glass while I’m preparing dinner. It makes the dinner hour much more seemingly pleasant actually — and then I can actually get some sleep later.
When I DO wake up in the night, I have been playing word games on my iTouch. It has really helped calm my mind. I am thinking of RANDOM WORDS so that pulls my focus away from the typical crazy-middle-of-the-night thoughts!
I am so impressed with your fretting self-defense. Beat them with the lamp! Strangle them with the cord! Nice planning.
I personally had this fret my ownself last night. Only, I went on the “we need a security system” route complete with, but yes, we need to install the sliding glass doors onto the imaginary patio first.
And honestly, it makes me really glad that you have the whole issue with the terminology used by skeevy men to discuss young women. Sometimes I feel like no one understands that kind of stuff. This makes me feel like, yes, people understand. And that you will teach your sons to be good men. And the world will be a better place.
I do something similar to Toylady. Describing it sounds goofy but it usually works pretty well to help me clear my mind if it won’t stop. I will count in my head up to 100 or 200 then backwards, fast enough that theoretically you can’t think of anything else. If my mind wanders, I start over. You can make it more mentally challenging if you count by multiples of whatever.
Or I’ll imagine a chalkboard. And I’ll imagine writing numbers on the chalkboard sort of writing them with my eyes (so behind closed eyes you are sort of moving your eyes to do the writing). Then after you write the number, you erase it and continue with the next number. Same thing as before, you start over if your mind wanders.
I remember reading once that your body breaks down at least a portion of the alcohol you drink into a sugar, which can actually cause a slight sugar high. I know that if I drink anything other than beer (or just too much beer) too close to bedtime, I’m likely to either have trouble falling asleep or end up WIDE AWAKE at an ungodly hour. Possibly wine and mixed drinks are worse for sleep because they have a higher sugar content than beer? Dunno.
And as much as I love the mental image of you gnawing on a building, I hope today is less gnaw-inspiring!
If my mind starts spinning, I spend some time with the itouch playing kenken or sudoku or something vaguely mathy that takes focus but makes you tired.
And, I have to say that I like the poster above that framed ‘jailbait’ in terms of her 18 year old son. Less icky, but still correct.
I have reluctantly realized that if I don’t exercise regularly I will suffer the middle of the night wake and fret problem all the time. Just last night I woke for no reason at 3:00 am and couldn’t get back to sleep for an hour due to stupid racing brain. Why? Because I haven’t exercised since last week. This is hard to remember when it’s lunch time or after work and I should be exercising, but instead I’d prefer to relax and do nothing.
I also can’t have booze after about 8:00 pm or I suffer the same problem. Sometimes getting older is a real pain in the butt.
i’ve been having trouble sleeping recently (combination of sinuses, and then last night, workers tearing out drywall from 11pm – 12:30am) and it’s odd, but listening to a movie (that i’ve seen before) helps my brain shut up AND relaxes me until i can sleep. this is only effective, however, if you’re adequately blind with glasses off – like, there’s no risk i’ll WATCH the movie and get involved, since i can’t SEE it :) i listen to movies on my ipod when i don’t want to go out to the couch to actually turn one on the tv.
I do the same thing with the Dispatching of Random Intruders. We have some weird metal part Jason found abandoned in a warehouse that used to be a shift knob or something, and it’s under the bed, just in case.
It’s heavy as hell, so if I ever use it (it’s on my side of the bed), I’m sure to cause brain damage/death.
“I hate everybody.”
Bwwaahahahaaaa. Have so been THERE.
I was listening to NPR with the actual woman whose story was turned into the movie “The Whistle Blower,” and she told of the time, on the eve of her first mission in a war-torn country for a defense contractor? I think? when her co-worker plopped himself into the hot tub with his drink and announced, OUT LOUD, that he knew where you could find great 12-15 year olds in that country.
TWELVE TO FIFTEEN. OMFG. Yeah.
That.
Erm.
You know what?
I juuuust realized that I may have given you, ahem, something additional to *ponder* in the middle of the night.
Sorry about that, friend. DELETE! DELETE!
Betsy- It went well, and I mentioned to the doctor that she kind of did/didn’t want to know about the scab, and he said “Ha ha ha”—but then didn’t answer. And then I felt kind of dumb about being indirect, and didn’t want to ask again, so. We’re not sure. He did show me her throat and it looked “good” to me—like, not scary, and the scab was about the size of a dime, which is smaller than I was imagining, and it looked like there was just ONE scab (I was thinking there might be two, because of two tonsils, but maybe they attach at the same place?) (okay, now I am grossing myself out).
My lying-awake brain likes to bring up irritating songs and play them on repeat. Or bring up arguments I’ve had and rehash the whole thing while I come up with the things I SHOULD have said seven years ago or whatever. Or bring up annoying phrases like “it is what it is” for me to think about EXACTLY WHY that phrase irritates me so much.
the new girl– It was kind of satisfying, because I could immediately imagine dispatching that guy. Push his head down in the water. Drop in a toaster.
Superjules- “It is what it is” gives me an instant huge rush of ragey adrenaline! That’s one that, like jailbait, I have lain awake thinking of EXACTLY WHAT is wrong with that phrase—or, more specifically, what is is SUPPOSED to mean, versus what pineholes DISTORT it to mean. RRRRGGGGG!!!!
I think if the term “jailbait” were ever appropriate to use, we’d also need an equally derogatory term for the boys/men who want to be involved with the “jailbait” girls. Why would the boy/man be tempted to pursue someone like that? It’s not because he loves her mind, and the alternative explanation is not one that reflects well on the guy. How about “p*nis brain”?
I was having another in a series of crap days when I read this and now I’m laughing while imagining you going all ninja on an intruder.
Love!!!
In my imaginary triumphs over intruders, I always wield a frying pan. Classic.
I swear I hear noises all the time! My husband has to sleep with our bedroom door shut and since the kids rooms are closest to a door an intruder would come in through my thoughts also then go to the two of them being kidnapped, or even just one of them. I’m sure this is helping you immensely. On those nights not even the melatonin helps and then I usually end up having nightmares about it once I do fall asleep.
I think we have a neighborhood raccoon or possum? that is noisy in our yard at night (maybe stray cat). Our “computer” room is surrounded by windows on three sides – if there was an intruder out there every time I thought I heard something then it’s a safe bet our yard is swarming in bad guys 9 nights out of 10. I’m sure it is an animal and yet the sounds occasionally chase me out of the room – when I’m too creeped out to handle it any longer.
I have never thought about the word jailbait – UNTIL NOW. :-)
I actually had to look up the exact meaning of the term ‘jailbait’ (I’m not from the US), because I thought it refers to a girl (let’s say 17, but looking younger) who works with the police in order to catch gross guys going for young girls.
I mean, as long as it’s not her intention to get him into jail (which I assume it isn’t with most of them, even with Toylady’s son), the term doesn’t really fit, does it?
nicolien- YES, that’s an aspect that bugs me, too. WHATEVER the girl is up to, she’s not BAIT placed by someone else in order to get men into JAIL.
The term is intended to put all the blame of the Doing the Wrong Thing (in this case, having sex with someone underaged) onto THE GIRL. And the term doesn’t just try to describe an action she’s taking, but rather it attempts to DEFINE HER ENTIRE SELF. Her behavior (having sex with someone too old to have sex with her legally) is WHAT SHE IS—and ALL she is. She is danger! and badness personified! Whereas the guy’s behavior is NOT what he is, nor is it his fault: he was TRICKED, by bait in a trap laid for him by this bad, bad child.
(A side note is that the last time I looked into this, which was 6 years ago so this info could have changed, there were exceptions to the illegality of having sex with someone underaged. One exception was if the other party was also underaged: that is, a 16-year-old doesn’t go to jail for having sex with another 16-year old. The second exception was for small age gaps: that is, an 18-year-old doesn’t go to jail for having sex with a 17-year-old, even though one of them is underaged and the other is legal. The width of the “it’s still okay” gap varied by state.)
I think it gets really tricky when kids are younger (like in Toy Lady’s story) but those are not the situations in which jailbait is typically used. I think we can all understand a senior wanting to date a sophomore or something along those lines. That story does bother me though because the girl was clearly (according to Toy Lady) troubled and as such should never be subjected to a term like “jailbait.” I’m thinking that “stalker” might be the more descriptive term for her.
The difference I think is that the term is typically used by a smarmy older guy ogling a young girl. There is usually no intent on the girl’s part, she’s just pretty or whatever. THAT is sickening and I’d categorize it with the “c” word as one that should NEVER EVER EVER be used.
I never thought about “jailbait” that way, but you make a good point. I have a similar anger about the term “homewrecker.” So a married guy chooses to cheat on his wife and we call the mistress the homewrecker? As if all the blame rests on her? No, no, I don’t really buy that one bit. Let’s call the man who chose to cheat the homewrecker, shall we?
velocibadgergirl- AGREE AGREE AGREE. This DRIVES ME CRAZY—like Brad Pitt isn’t the one who wrecked his own home? Oh, indeed, it’s all the WOMAN’S fault! Evil, evil women! URG!!!