It’s Four O’clock Somewhere |
I woke up at four o’clock this morning, as I sometimes do. I’ve heard that women all over the world wake up at four in the morning. I don’t know why four is the magic number, but supposedly it is. My eyes popped open, as if it were time to get up. But no, I still had three more hours to go.
Tell that to my body. It was restless, ready to start the day. My eyes were tired and knew that they were short-changed on sleep. I flip-flopped for while, pulling the bottom end of the top sheet out from under the mattress. It was too hot. I turned on the ceiling fan. Then it felt drafty. Sigh.
I looked at my alarm clock. It was half past four. I thought about getting up for a glass of water, but decided to stay in bed. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. Meanwhile, my mind raced.
I wondered about other women doing the same thing at that same time. What do they think about during the dark hours of the morning? Are they fretting about their families or friends? Is money tight with no relief in sight? Are they afraid they won’t meet their responsibilities? Are they lonely? Are they weary from what life has thrown their way? What thoughts fill their minds and keep them up while the rest of the world sleeps?
When I was younger, I had a few girlfriends I could call in the middle of the night. They never seemed to mind. They called me too when they felt confused or scared. We talked. We listened. We cried. We helped each other until we felt better. Then we hung up and went back to bed.
As I got older, those phone calls became infrequent, then nonexistent. We grew older and busier. We didn’t want to inconvenience the other, knowing that it’s not nice to sob in someone’s ear while they’re half asleep. We learned to keep our feelings inside, stifling the desire to communicate and the need to share, particularly during the aloneness of the night. So we tossed and turned.
No matter what time of day or night, it’s hard to find a sympathetic ear. There are those who try to listen, but don’t understand. Or they feel the need to fix my problems, and then get frustrated when I don’t see their light. Fair enough. No one can always know the right thing to say or do. It’s too much too expect, even from those who love us the most.
Ultimately, I must be responsible for my feelings. Often I need to get them out in the open before I can move on. If someone isn’t available to listen without judgment, what can I do? Journaling can be helpful, but in order to get something fully off of my chest, I need to be heard. I don’t know why it works, but writing to be heard always helps me move through my emotions.
I’ve decided to start a place on my Web site for people who want to say what’s on their hearts. I call it The Four O’clock Somewhere Club. Anybody, man or woman, can participate, as long as the comments are PG-13. It’s simple: every week I’ll post a question, you respond. Go to www.ellensackett.com and look for FOUR O’CLOCK SOMEWHERE CLUB. It doesn’t even have to be four o’clock in the morning; you can come by anytime, day or night. I want to hear what’s on your mind.
All best ~
EJ
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