Off in the night, while you live it up; I'm off to sleep.

I've been tossing and turning in bed for the past two hours.
People closest to me can attest to the fact that normally, no matter where I am (bed, couch, floor, bathtub), and no matter how much sleep I've already had (i.e. falling right back into a near comatose like slumber after taking a six hour "nap")--it never takes me longer than 15 minutes maximum to find sleep.

Lately though, I can't seem to fall asleep (or stay asleep). Solution? I tend to busy myself until I'm too weary to keep my eyes open. So when I collapse into bed, sleep claims me pretty fast.

Tonight, sleep seems to be alluding me; and I find myself sitting here blogging about nothing in particular and craving a cigarette so bad I had to force myself to brush my teeth again to take my mind off of it.

Change is kind of a tricky little thing--sometimes, it happens so fast that there's barely even a second to realize it's happening. Other times (times like these) change seems so long in coming that life feels a little bit like a tape that's being played in slow motion.

Recently, no matter how actively I try to fast forward and speed up my tape, it doesn't really matter. I never even imagined how empty my entire being would feel, every time I open my empty gmail account.

Earlier tonight, I probably spent no less than three hours straight combing the internet for possible jobs. Countless open Mozilla tabs, cover letter tweakings and resume attachings later-- I found myself feeling trapped. While there are thousands of other words that thesaurus.com is telling me to use for the word "trapped", there just is no right word to explain the emotional turmoil roiling up inside of me. I got up, walked outside bare foot onto my front porch and desperately wished for the 800th time this month that I wasn't living at home so I could have a cigarette.

In that second, when I felt my chest closing in, and my breathing become weird and labored I thought of just one person I wanted to call. Three months ago, I can gaurantee you I would have done it. But this time I just swallowed the bitter pill of self loathing and wallowing self hate and pretended to be okay when my mom asked if I had indigestion from dinner.

Shit.

I need so much, but I have no clue how to ask.
Also, it might help if I could figure out exactly what it is that I need.