I recently had a 2-3 week stretch of waking up at 1:30am. That wasn’t the worst of it. The bad nights were those when I didn’t fall back asleep. That was either a source or a symptom of my recent rough patch.
Last night I woke up at 10:30pm. I groaned and started not watching a series on Amazon Instant Video. I’ve got the Amazon Prime, so I can fire away and watch (or not watch) a lot of their shows for free. It worked. I must have dozed off, but I woke again at around 1am. I reloaded the video, but instead of pressing Resume, I hit the button to buy the whole season of the show…a show that I can watch for free. That’s how I found myself at 1am, scouring the Amazon website for customer service info. (Note: Amazon really would prefer not to talk to us directly; they make it a challenge to find them.) (Note: Just because you’re an insomniac doesn’t mean you’re not tired. I was so tired that I felt like I was drunkenly navigating the Amazon website.) Eventually, I was able to chat with a customer service representative. I briefly explained my situation. He wrote back, “Are you referring to The Good Wife, Season 3?”
Here’s what I wanted to say: I am, but I’m not really watching it. I just stream shows in the hopes that they’ll lull me to sleep. Can you also track my usage patterns? If so, please don’t judge. I am very lonely. When I wake up in the wee hours of the morning, there are no arms to retreat to, there’s only my empty self, so to avoid that–and the attendant sadness–I numb myself with mindless tv. So many hours of mindless tv, most of which I sleep through. British criminal procedurals are ideal, really, they are so boring that I am asleep soon after the first murder, but I’ve run through them all, so now here I am, tearing through The Good Wife. A JD-PhD I know recommended it. Does that make this less embarrassing? Also, does the Resume This Free Episode button have to be so close to the Buy the Whole Season button?
Here’s what I wrote to him: Yes, that’s it.
He refunded my $19.99.
Long dark nights of the soul are the stuff of poetry. But they get pretty wearing after awhile, and when you patch them in with British procedural dramas and harmless tv series and the occasional reality show, it’s all rather tawdry and embarrassing. That’s the thing about this grief journey. It’s really deep, and sometimes, it’s awfully trite.