He felt the part of his face around his left eye. The pain was almost entirely gone, save for a single tender spot near his temple. This all was the result of a miscalculated step-in, one that resulted in his brother's fist unintentionally thrust in his face while sparring this past Thanksgiving. It was all a rather entertaining and laughable situation, a story sure to guarantee laughs around tables, camp fires and the like for years to come.
The minor injury to Matt's eye was just one of many miscalculations within the past few months that had resulted in needless pain; the others not nearly as entertaining or funny when thought about in retrospect.
Matt had spoken to several people about the issues he was going through, which helped a lot because it released a good amount of the pressure building up inside of him. However, as the ghost haunting him evolved and changed and the time of reckoning drew nearer he felt his brain chemistry begin to do a 180. All of this was scary because he felt the irresistible urge to act in ways he, prior to this entire mess, would have immediately identified as irrational. He was afraid he was losing it.
This was his second sleepless night in a row, probably 5th this past month alone. His friend told him she was concerned for him and told him he aught to get his insomnia checked out. Insomnia; he never thought of it that way, putting a name to whatever was plaguing him made it seem like there was actually something wrong with him, he didn't like to admit that there was something wrong with him; it made him seem handicapped and complaining about a handicap was too similar to making excuses for his liking. This was some ridiculous logic, he knew it was, but all the same he held fast to it, resigned to take the harder path.
He offered up an excuse for his insomnia; "the ghost," he said, "I blame the ghost!"
"That's certainly a stress er, but you were an insomniac workaholic long before you even crossed paths with your ghost," the friend replied, "you need to take your health into consideration, lack of sleep can ruin your mental state later down the road if not immediately, you need to give yourself time to rest,".
He offered up some pitiful response in defense of himself, knowing that she meant the best and that ultimately she was right; he should listen to her. However, still, the word felt odd; workaholic, what an odd way of describing him, if anything he felt like he wasn't working hard enough.
Maybe that was the problem.