haven't had any hallucinations yet -- not visual ones, anyway. If I had, I would have been in to see a doctor by now. Nor have I had aural hallucinations. I have experienced many conceptual ones, though. I'm experiencing one right now. It's an illusion that any of the items on my to do list will get done in a reasonable time. My brain has turned to mush. I really don't need sleep, after all. And on and on and on...

The baby has not been letting us sleep. Some nights he has, but most, not. The sounds of baby farts are accompanied by constant screaming. I called home during the day and heard him in the background. He sounded like a little horn being blown over and over and over. Two nights ago was as bad as it gets. Martha had taken him out of the room, so I could sleep -- which was nice of her. But Nicholas kept screaming and I could still hear him. That was level one screaming: the constant, repetitive, tearless cry that seems to have no end. When it does end, it becomes level two screaming. Level two sounds like the baby is being squashed: a choked, drawn out, cranky scream. After that is level three, which sounds as if the baby is being ripped in half.

I got up when he reached this level. Martha was a zombie, mindlessly rocking Nicholas in the recliner. I picked him up and he continued his tirade for a few minutes. He stopped abruptly. I always find this mysterious. It can't be a lingering pain that causes him to scream because the moment he stopped, the look on his face was beatific. With eyes wide open, he quietly stuck his tongue out a few times and looked around. I changed his diaper and we put him back to bed as though that was where he had been all night. A short time later, he started up again. It's been like this since the first of October. I've had -- or rather my brain has had -- no breaks, no down-time, no dreams except those fleeting, waking dreams I call conceptual hallucinations: absurd ideas that seem reasonable at the time but prove impossible when tested. I walked out of the house with no shoes on thinking that my shoes would be on by the time I stepped outside. (These incidents -- like many dreams -- are difficult to recall, as they fade once their unreasonableness is noticed.) I tried to pick up a stack of books by grasping only the top book. I've had trouble parsing sentences in the newspaper. When I look at distant objects, sometimes near ones appear as the background to far ones. I can't focus.
R6(7)

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