I’ve tried to not think about it. I’ve tried to sleep. I’ve tried to fool myself it’ll be okay.
Alas, none of these things have worked.
I think my Daddy found me on a roadside. My siblings are not like me. They are all insane. Well, I may be as well. Just undiagnosed. So we mus’nt think of that.
My brother informed me tonight he was older than me. He lies. I’m at least 13 mos. older. He’s mistaken.
And…he’s trying to be supportive and intelligent. None of which he’s prepared for. I know this little creep. I practically raised him. Well, I taught him the ways of the cul-de-sac we lived on. And kept him alive til he grew up.
Oh, wait he’s not a grown up yet.
How can I cipher this out?
The world is topsy-turvy.
My sweet, dumb brother gave me the best advice.
I’m forever in his debt.
Beck, you’re one of the most level-headed Dopers that I know.
My ex-wife was also one of the most level-headed and logical people I’ve ever known. But she did have some batshit-crazy relatives. So you’re not the only one.
Beck, when I’ve had sleepless nights, I have often been strengthened by a poem that has hung on my bedroom wall for years:
Sleep sweetly in this quiet room, O thou, who’er thou art. And let no mournful yesterdays, Disturb thy peaceful heart. Nor let tomorrow scare thy rest, With thoughts of coming ill– Thy Maker is thy Changeless Friend, His love surrounds thee still. Forget thyself and all the world, Put out each feverish light. The stars are watching overhead. Sleep sweetly, then. Good night.
Various authors are attributed, but they’re all in the late 19th/early 20th century, so I guess that it has passed into the public domain. At any rate, Beck, it has helped me rest through many sleepless nights, and I hope that it helps you get some sleep too.