For years, I have mainly been sleeping curled up in the fetal position. My shoulders would curl in, attempting to make my upper body a little round ball, and I would take comfort in the closeness of everything, the feeling that I was embracing myself. This has been going on long enough that I have creases in my skin on the insides of my shoulders and along my collarbones. Not very noticeable traces, but enough so to be a badge for how I sleep.

But I did not always sleep curled up. There were a few years of my life before my father got sick and then I made Syzygy, when I slept spread-eagle. When I slept alone, I would take up my entire double bed with my 156cm small frame, often waking up with my head and feet nowhere near where they started when sleep began. Those years were soaked in a joy for life. Every day I would look at the sky, and revel in how wonderful life is. I would gush with ecstasy at the beauty and marvel of the world. I was infinitely grateful for my good life. A friend of mine once told me she wondered if I were on drugs.

In those days, my validation was constant. Everyone around me had an extremely high opinion of me and made it known to me. I was aware that I was good and successful at what I put my mind to. I had the privilege and freedom to indulge in enjoying life, with good friendships, good food, good wine, good music, lots of orgasms, interesting activities.

Then, my father was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and died in half a year. And half a year after that I made Syzygy, and everything but the guild disappeared from my life. I had a strong sense of purpose and a single-minded desire to accomplish greatness and be responsible for those I led, and I did not feel any loss at the time in giving up everything that brought joy to my life before. I even stopped taking delight in looking at the sky.

I’m not exactly sure when I converted over to curling up in my sleep. I only know after I noticed the badges of it in my skin and tried to not curl up, I could not feel comfortable. I needed to feel protected, comforted, embraced, and without curling up, I could feel no relief, and sleep would become even more unattainable.

Yesterday, though, was a day of much well-being and validation. I had taken on new clients and had some appointments, and decided to bike everywhere. It meant nearly 3 hours of biking yesterday, so, endorphins. On top of that, a person who wasn’t trying to get me in bed complimented my looks. In response to my comment that I had biked over, she said I must have caused a ton of car crashes. It took me surprisingly long to understand what she was trying to say, and I actually at first asked her if something happened that day and why there were car crashes. Then later, I worked and, well, I’m good at what I do, and my new clients made it abundantly clear that they thought I was great. Then later that day, a friend called because to talk of relationship problems she had, and at the end of our talk she was effusive in how appreciative she was of me, going so far as to imply she felt I was unique in the world, and she was gratified that we were friends.

Days like this were pretty constant before my father was discovered to be sick, but I do not think I have had a day like this since then. It did feel rather wonderful, and I am grateful that I am once again taking on new clients, interacting with friends, and making appointments that bring me into contact with a variety of people.

And last night, I slept spread-eagle.