Wandering lonely as a cloud

You know that awkward sensation of feeling lost and left out? Of demeaning yourself as worthless when nothing around makes any sense at all?

Last night I was feeling that way. I simply could not fall asleep and that was what I feared most: to dive into such emotional depth. My relentless mind and thoughts would inevitably lead me to a next day fatigue.

Crazy as it may sound, I've got no control over my thoughts as they set off on a fast track to elements of sweet and pain, leading me to secret places I try not to recall.

Memory lane brings up a young version of myself amid alienated and blankfaced grown-ups. In just a few seconds I'm there, lying down on my back, staring at the ceiling as if it were a giant screen, watching the movie of my whole life that seems to take all night long.

It is painful to go on that journey over and over again. Time. All I need is a bit of patience to get trhough it, because patience is often rewarded. Yet somehow, paradoxically, after achieving such a tone of haunting and melancholy portrait, I picture a better understanding of myself, of what´i've become, of what I am.

Would that convey an identity crisis? A metaphor for a desperate search? Or, is it just my level of melatonin?