Restless with a side of crazy

(Jul 20 7:19 a.m.)

My sleeping has taken a turn for the worse.  I’m getting two to four hours more often.  And it’s not due to the news.  It’s this squirrel in the roof, scratching, damaging the ceiling above my bed… and that’s after the fact that my quality of sleep has been poor with the bed already since 2014.  This house, this environment, the isolation, for years, and it gets worse like this.  I mean, animals actively keeping you awake in the ongoing process of your home being destroyed.  It is such a breaking point, how much I can’t live here.

(Jul 20 7:20 a.m.)

Passiveness be damned.  I went outside.  These two trees, I’ve seen as ways of accessing the roof for one squirrel, at least.  If I can’t get this squirrel to go, the trees will have to be cut down.  Trouble is, I don’t have a saw or the social skills to ask a neighbor to potentially do the honor.  So yesterday, I went crazy.  I got the ladder.  I pulled each tree down, twisted and snapped, and cut the ends off… with scissors.

Don’t get me wrong; I love trees.  But I hate squirrels more now.  I got bits of bark or moss on my clothes in the process of breaking, cutting down the tops, but I didn’t care.

I walked some more.  And then I saw one squirrel coming down from somewhere.  Like hell I was going to let them all roam freely; pest squirrels have a sense of entitlement.  I went to its tree, it barked at me, and I barked back.  It was basically a shouting match of each of us telling the other to go away.  That is, until I pulled at a smaller nearby tree to shift its stalk around, and that scared it enough to hide.

(Jul 20 7:21 a.m.)

I brushed myself off, and my mother brushed my hair to remove debris.

10 a.m.  No squirrel in the roof.  I slept… under five hours.

I woke up to hear that Chester Bennington of Linkin Park died, which surprised me… until I read his story.  RIP, Chester.

I got mail— my mental strengths/weaknesses evaluation results, which concluded that I am incapable of being gainfully employed.  There was no mention that I had slept poorly before the testing— how that affected the results.

I was too tired to shower, so I brushed my teeth and was looking forward to bed.

Immediately afterward?  Scratching, biting— the same squirrel sounds, the same disturbing circumstance.

What did I do?  What could I do?  What can I do?  I recorded audio— more of the squirrel, causing more damage.

I went online, and read blogs.  I tried but failed to write a working post on Bennington, his struggle, etc.  And here I am, alternatively writing this.

To say I am sick and tired is old, old news.  I need out.  I need sleep.  I need real help and people who understand that I am not at my best because of all this crap affecting my mental health.  But who will hear me?  Who ever does?

Please God, universe…whatever: remove this fucking squirrel.  Send it far, far away.

2 thoughts on “Restless with a side of crazy

  1. Not getting enough sleep is hell, especially when the problem is your sleeping environment. I once lived next door to a dog that barked incessantly, day and night. For more than a year, I lived there. The fact that no one (and nothing) died during that time is a miracle.

    I love dogs. We have two fur babies now that I spoil rotten. But a dog outside on a chain, barking nonstop, is so wrong, on so many levels.

    I used to have a squirrel friend, when I was a little girl. She was delightful. She would come and visit me almost every day when I was outside playing, sit a few feet away from me, watching and listening as I talked to her.

    Then I did not see her for awhile. Until one day, when she walked out of the woods and paraded three baby squirrels back and forth in front of me. They did four long passes in front of me, while I sat and watched, entranced. It was awesome!

    But if they had been living in the attic above my head? Oh hell no.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lol, yeah. It can be nice when an animal comes to visit. But respecting boundaries is a must.

      Squirrels will always push further, so there’s nothing wrong with merely talking to them. (They can’t speak English.)

      Liked by 1 person

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