2 AM

"Baby, it's 3 AM. I must be lonely." - Matchbox 20

Did you know that old, overplayed song was about the lead singer's mother and her battles with chronic pain? It doesn't make the song any less overplayed but I had a sort of second wind experience with it. Then, it got overplayed through that second chance. There's something in the song I can identify with. It's 2 AM for me and not 3:00 but there's something about the middle of the night. I'm not claustrophobic but the walls seem like they're closing in. I'm not paranoid but that's when everything does seem out to get me. All my friends and loved ones abandon me at 2 AM but they always come back. Usually, they're back by 3 AM just like they never left. Imagine that!

As I've felt my usual partial symptom improvement that comes with warm weather along with the improvement from taking my meds "as needed" again, other things have crept in. As the pain recedes, I find the brain space to think of other things and other people. I've said it before and I'll say it again. You might as well go ahead and list crippling guilt as a Chiari symptom. There's an old expression that says knowing is half the battle but it doesn't seem to work that way in this case. I know the facts and I still have that metaphorical wish for a meteorite to come down and smash me in my chair without inconveniencing anyone else. That would make it an awfully small meteorite but that doesn't matter in the moment.

I'm not looking for practical advice right now. If I could be asleep every night at 2 AM, I would be but sleep comes unreliably yet not always during the day now. If I might risk making others feel bad, what I want is one of the late great Lois Silvestri's hugs. She was the one person who knew how to hug without hurting. I can still hear her voice and put myself in her kitchen as one of the safe places I've stored up. I let her talk without saying much and she's not really saying anything either despite doing all the talking. It only makes sense in dreams and old memories.

After one of dear Lois' hugs, I'd take about a ton of ice cream of assorted varieties not including anything with strawberries or coconut. Yesterday was so damp that it was cold. Today, I am starting to remember everything I learned about relative humidity. Hot air holds the most moisture. My eyes keep closing in the heat. I want my snow back!