Tyler+S's+OpEd+Article

By Ty St. Germain
media type="file" key="tylers-muckraker-2011.mp3" align="center" Aside from the drug references, the song "Brain Stew" by Green Day represents my woes in lyrical representation.

"I'm having trouble trying to sleep I'm counting sheep but running out  As time ticks by  And still I try  No rest for crosstops in my mind

On my own... here we go

My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed Dried up and bulging out my skull My mouth is dry My face is numb

On my own... here we go

My mind is set on overdrive The clock is laughing in my face A crooked spine My sense's dulled Passed the point of delerium"

How the world around us hustles and bustles at an incessant rate. Never stopped. Never distracted. Never interrupted. Never silenced. I praise the world yet criticize its indefatigable state all the same. I admire, yet spite its traction on people to assimilate to a state of haste. The concept of mechanical, repetitive lives has built itself amongst society to be ideal. However, it is a long train ride from ideal. The prescription for the world is for the train to stop; so I can stop once in a while.

Too much repetition! Too many alarms! Too many elements to tackle upon the stairs towards the top of life. But lately, it feels as if life is an artificial stair stepper, revolving constantly; never giving way to sight of the peak.

Today we need to get good grades to get into a college. We need to attend a good college to get a thorough education. We need a thorough education to make our resume above everyone else’s. We need an impressive resume to get careers. We need careers to make money and live a comfortable life. What happens if we stop thinking about all the tasks of tomorrow? We fall out of the rat race and lie in the dirt.

It’s as if we are built to be a machine in a factory. Waking, doing, continuing; unconsciously and often without a passion. Where is the passion? I feel like my days, weeks, years, have meshed into one. I’m leading the monotonous life of a teenager pursuing the ‘American Dream’. I’m pursuing my passion, but this journey is diminishing my passion to say the least.

All this strife has led my sleep pattern to be ingrained with symptoms of ADHD, and its hyper active! I merely want to sleep. If I hadn’t so many things to complete; my mind could take a much needed slumber. At times me eyes feel like lead; my body sinks into its surroundings, but I lay there unable to fall asleep. Oh, but it is not merely my doing which evokes my insomnia, but a myriad of outside influences. To and fro, mom or dad’s house; walking or sitting; my mind constantly races. I envy those who take for granted their normal sleeping pattern because they cannot feel the intensity of fatigue I’m virtually always consumed by.

Oh the insomnia! The crux of my complaints! How I just want to sleep. I want to lie down, shut my eyes, and drift into a swift sleep. I don’t want to close my eyes and try so hard to achieve something so biologically natural. If only my inconsiderate neighbors would shut their loud mouths. I’m beginning to believe that they are sabotaging my life; torturing me by not letting me achieve a thorough night of sleep. In the afternoon, in the night, at midnight the doors slam, voices yell, basketballs reverberate amongst the street. Why would you play basketball at night? Can you not be normal? Can you not be considerate? Stop shouting, "FIRE!" and yelling that the door is locked because there is no fire and you should know that no one works in your house, so there will always be someone home.

You are my //House of Usher// and I hope you crack in half one day and decay in the lemon orchard.

The household and its residents are no-good-for-anything-welfare banes of my life. I hate that house and its croak-voiced children and its 900 family members and its 10,000 cars that park infront of my drive way.

One would think the bitter sweetness of divorce would provide my rest with a cookie when I depart for my dad’s. One would logically assume that driving far away from the influences of my insomnia would solve my problems. 14 miles seems like a substantial distance from my problems. Well neither driving away nor living at my dad’s house helps my insomnia. I anticipate peace every time I depart to my father’s abode, but I am naïve every time in thinking a good night’s sleep will ensue. My mind is still racing with thoughts and I am still consumed with stress. Additionally, all I have to add is – four dogs. Who would do such a horrific thing as own four dogs? They bark, and bark at nothing most of the time. It begins at the crack of dawn when the sun rings through the vocal cords of the oldest, senile dog. I have no other preventative option but to resort to ear plugs. Yet, those don’t even work. I am not one to fall back asleep once I awake - a common symptom of insomnia. So once I’m woken up at 6 am on a previously peaceful Saturday morning, I have two choices; I lay there or I get up. I choose the latter more often. Confound you dogs.

Studies tell repeatedly that adolescents need anywhere from 8-10 hours of sleep per night. I find this somewhat laughable. I am envious of teenagers who get 8 or more hours of sleep per night. I am averaging 6 hours per night, waking up repeatedly as the clock strikes the hours of the AM. On the weekends, I get about 7 hours of sleep. So how is this affecting me? Let’s say I should be getting 9 hours of sleep (Haha) and with the reduction of sleep I am actually getting, that’s about 1,000 hours less sleep than a normal non-insomniac child. No wonder I am restless all the time and am hit with my daily afternoon energy crash. But can I blame myself? I don’t blame myself at all. I’ve tried every remedy aside from sleeping medication to make me sleep; my efforts are futile. I blame the world, society, and school for my insomnia. I blame the expectations, the pressure, and the sheer amount of paper I waste writing on every year for my insomnia. Just stop; so I can stop.