Barriers

I woke up at 3:10 in the morning.  My fan died, and literally as soon as the white noise went away, my eyelids popped open.  It's pretty sad when you can't sleep because it's too darn quiet in the room.  After an hour of laying in the deafening silence listening to my husband breathe and being annoyed by it, I resorted to opening the bathroom door and turning the fan on - it was better than nothing, and eventually I fell back asleep.  When did I become so intolerant of silence?  Maybe the noise masks my own inner voice that won't shut up, or maybe I'm just getting way too set in my ways, but I can not sleep without some sort of noise barrier.  

Barriers can be beneficial, say in a flood, but they also hold things in, so they are hindrances as well.   I'm sitting here in a quiet room, and I can't think of the words I want to say.  It's scary, because I used to be so articulate, and I worry that my mind is starting to fail me.  For now, I'll just blame it on the barrier - the barrier of silence that won't permit my thoughts to escape.  Somehow, I need to overcome this obstacle if I want to leave this place for a better one.