Master and Commander-- Not.

 I woke up too early to feel rested. This is a regular phenomenon, which had shown signs of improving over the trip, but then didn't.

When I wake I usually think of work-- how can I be better? and then it veers into more frustrating territory-- how I feel unappreciated at work. Then I think of how I feel unappreciated in general or rather how I have become someone without a sense of self. What have I become in my marriage? In this country? By this point I have a breakdown and start sobbing in bed. I think of different ways in which I can strike out a new life-- and I feel hemmed in, because these all run the risk of me devolving into something worse, lonelier, scarier. 

A few days ago, Mike and I had to catch the morning train from Santa Barbara. At the station, a woman asked us -- do they check the ticket before we board or do they do it in the train? I eagerly answered that they check it in the train. I was happy to be of use to a stranger. 

It has always been the case (and it is vexing), that when Mike and I are out together, people here (in the US) are more comfortable chatting with Mike. He is of the land, to put a generous spin on things, and he is friendly. When we are together, at the checkout or at a restaurant, in the elevator or in a cab, its always the same. Sometimes I prefer it, like during long Lyft rides with chatty drivers. At other times, if I have the gumption, I try to get a word in, if not, I weakly plaster a smile on my face and count the seconds until the ordeal is over. Often, I think I should just walk away, and tell myself to carry my own set of keys with me so that I can make the escape if needed (sometimes, if I sense a fight brewing before we leave the house for a walk, I take my keys). When I am on my own, however, people talk to me. It is sometimes more stilted, and always briefer, but unlike when I am with Mike, I exist as a person.

During this trip, fellow travelers have often been nice enough (perhaps, due to their own sense of foreignness or vulnerability) to direct questions/requests at both of us. But I rarely have the answers. Mike would, because he had planned and pretty much navigated the whole of this trip. My lack of involvement makes me feel inadequate and guilty, but this is as much as I have to offer. I did not want to sign up for a 5-week trip, but getting out was the healthy thing to do for both of us. It got me out of myself and Mike needed the same, but for his own brand of restlessness. 

So my role in our journey has been one of tagging along, and the only reason I knew that Amtrak checks the ticket in the train was because in another life I had made my own plans, exactly the way it suited me, and then navigated it all by myself. This is the person I miss. 

If I had to point out a single culprit for "how am I not myself?"-- I would point at my lack of sleep. When I don't sleep, I am tired, angry and disinterested in anything other than the most pressing items (aka, work). I should probably meditate, even though meditation won't make the root causes of sleeplessness go away, but if it can stem a vicious cycle, I should do it.