Of Hope... and Sleep

In order for us to make it through life, we need to have at least a little hope.

Hope for a better future; hope for a better tomorrow; hope of finding love; hope for good health; at least the hope that tomorrow won't be worse than today.

One of the things I have learned about myself is that the less hopeful I feel, the more I sleep, perhaps as a way to "escape" from my sense of hopelessness. It's just really difficult to stay awake and motivated when you don't have much hope.

I suppose sleeping is better than trying to run away from your sense of self, or your hopelessness... and you might even find nuggets of hope in your dreamscapes.

Thankfully, my darkest periods of hopelessness (so far!) happened many years ago, and I did sleep a lot while living for about eight months without working, all but permanently sequestered in my small apartment, only leaving about once a week for a late night grocery run at the local 24-hour market... when I would be least likely to run into anyone I knew.

There seemed to be no way out of that particular funk, but somehow my state of UN-being felt better than actually trying to BE in the world.

Was I depressed?

Some might argue that I was, but mostly it felt like I was just sick and tired and fed up with the sense that everything I had being trying to do — from work to love and beyond — just kept failing and failing and failing.

What's the point of doing things when the only outcome seems to be letdown and failure?

That's how it felt, back then.

So what's the point here?

Hope.

Well... that, and the fact that there would soon come a day when the credit cards that had been funding my "dark night of the soul" would soon run out of headroom...

Going back into the world wasn't better than what came before. Work was still meaningless, but necessary. A "thing to be done" because there was no other options for simply staying alive, on a day to day basis.

Interestingly enough, it was also the only time period in my adult life that I didn't have a cat or a dog in my life. I think about that, sometimes. I only half-joke when I say that I often prefer the company of my pets to that of (most) people.

Finding meaning came later.

Well, I'm going to use this as an "unnatural" (and unwanted) stopping point for this post, because Steemit is being supremely buggy — I can't seem to upload images, and sometimes I am just looking at "white space."

I hope that gets fixed, soon!

Thanks for stopping by and have a great Friday!

How about YOU? Have you ever experienced a deep sense of hopelessness? How did you get past it? Leave a comment if you feel so inclined — share your experiences — be part of the conversation!

(All text and images by the author, unless otherwise credited. This is ORIGINAL CONTENT, created expressly for this platform — Not posted elsewhere!)

Created at 2025.08.29 01:59 PDT
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