wither in the light

4AM and a nightmare has ridden me for hours... there are times when I take my sleeping pills and it is only a misfiring neuron, some electrical potential dimmed by lack of a fundamental vitamin perhaps, that keeps my hand from tipping the whole bottle back and getting some decent rest for once. It is amazing how bad the pain can get when it returns from a day's respite; two days ago I took my first walk through the neighborhood surrounding the house we bought in November, and yesterday I managed to go upstairs for the first time in months. The book of the movie of my life had better have more creative segues from the relative excitement of those two events to the curled-in-a-ball ferrets-gnawing-my-guts cheeks-wet-with-tears calling-out-to-the-gods-as-though-I-believed misery of this night than "and then he spent the rest of the day/week/month/year/his life writhing on the bed in pain".