surrender and sleep
Why can't I seem to fit in? I do not belong anywhere I go. I'm always different, always the oddball, always on the outside. I don't want to be like everyone else, but I don't want to be alone forever either. I search, I explore, trying to discover my niche. I have loved and my heart has been wrung nearly dry. My eyes burn until I cannot bring myself to weep any longer. I am so exhuasted, so drained, so lifeless. I feel colder and more callous with each blow and I spend many sleepless night wondering does anyone even care anymore? Would I even be missed if I were gone?
The thoughts frightens me. No. It is not an option. No, I must not listen. I gather my blankets tightly around me; maybe they will protect me from these maddening thoughts -- these absurd, impossible, incesant thoughts that bombard me in the night. My blankets are warm, but I cannot feel their warmth and comfort. I shiver with cold and wish that I could just sleep.
Sleep. A foreign word to me now. Sleep -- yes, that's what I need. Sleep and forget this craziness. Sleep and make it all go away. Sleep will drown it all out. Surrender those few hours and put my mind at rest. I need to sleep so badly. It's been such a long time since I have slept. I lay my head down on my pillow and pull the blankets closer. If I just sleep it will all be gone soon and when I wake up in the morning I can have a life again, I will love life again, I will feel life again.
Can't sleep. That light. It is far too bright, but is almost a comforting annoyance. I could just get up and turn it off but then darkness would fill the room and I am too afraid of the darkness.
Darkness. My heart is racing; my hands are shaking; I feel sick to my stomach; my throat is burning with stomach acid; my mouth is watering -- I'm going to throw up. I cannot sleep, I cannot rest, I cannot bear the darkness. If I just hang on a few more hours soon the sun will rise and I will forget about the darkness for a while, forget these evil, horrifying thoughts that always come to me in the darkness. The darkness carries them to me and I am not strong enough to make them stop when I am alone.
Alone. I hate that word -- it always makes me feel a cold so deeply that I cannot escape, I can never seem to shake. That is why my blankets cannot protect me now -- it is too late. How can they on the outside protect me from that which is inside of me? I am no longer safe when I am by myself, I am in danger when I am alone. I am a threat to myself, I am torn, I am confused, I am frightened. I'm a pitiful shell of what once was full of light and happiness, curled up under layers of blankets, my shaky hands convering my mouth to prevent me from vomitting.
Where is my phone? I should call him. I need to call him. He can help me. I am safe when I am with him. I can rest when we are together -- he will guard me, he will make me strong. He can drive away the cold and the darkness that lurk above me like vultures. They want to prey on my fears, they want to eat me alive from the inside out. They would destroy me. No, they would have me destroy myself. I need him, need to be with him, need him to hold me.
Ringing ringing ringing. I smile. He is asleep. He is resting. I can feel his slow constant breathing on my neck and shoulders. There he is beside me -- he was there all along I just couldn't see him. One arm is under my head, right there, and the other around my stomach, his cheek against mine. He smells so good, that familiar smell that is so distinctly only him. I smile again -- I might wake him up.
No answer. My eyes burst open. It was only a dream. I am still cold, I am still alone, I am still afraid. I had fallen asleep finally, though only for less than 30 seconds. Why did I call him? What if I had broken his silence, his solice, his sweet long awaited slumber? How could I have been so selfish? I am ashamed of myself. I slowly put my phone back in its place, defeated. I must learn to live without, I must learn how to stand on my own, I must be strong by myself, but I don't want to. I just want to sleep.
The thoughts frightens me. No. It is not an option. No, I must not listen. I gather my blankets tightly around me; maybe they will protect me from these maddening thoughts -- these absurd, impossible, incesant thoughts that bombard me in the night. My blankets are warm, but I cannot feel their warmth and comfort. I shiver with cold and wish that I could just sleep.
Sleep. A foreign word to me now. Sleep -- yes, that's what I need. Sleep and forget this craziness. Sleep and make it all go away. Sleep will drown it all out. Surrender those few hours and put my mind at rest. I need to sleep so badly. It's been such a long time since I have slept. I lay my head down on my pillow and pull the blankets closer. If I just sleep it will all be gone soon and when I wake up in the morning I can have a life again, I will love life again, I will feel life again.
Can't sleep. That light. It is far too bright, but is almost a comforting annoyance. I could just get up and turn it off but then darkness would fill the room and I am too afraid of the darkness.
Darkness. My heart is racing; my hands are shaking; I feel sick to my stomach; my throat is burning with stomach acid; my mouth is watering -- I'm going to throw up. I cannot sleep, I cannot rest, I cannot bear the darkness. If I just hang on a few more hours soon the sun will rise and I will forget about the darkness for a while, forget these evil, horrifying thoughts that always come to me in the darkness. The darkness carries them to me and I am not strong enough to make them stop when I am alone.
Alone. I hate that word -- it always makes me feel a cold so deeply that I cannot escape, I can never seem to shake. That is why my blankets cannot protect me now -- it is too late. How can they on the outside protect me from that which is inside of me? I am no longer safe when I am by myself, I am in danger when I am alone. I am a threat to myself, I am torn, I am confused, I am frightened. I'm a pitiful shell of what once was full of light and happiness, curled up under layers of blankets, my shaky hands convering my mouth to prevent me from vomitting.
Where is my phone? I should call him. I need to call him. He can help me. I am safe when I am with him. I can rest when we are together -- he will guard me, he will make me strong. He can drive away the cold and the darkness that lurk above me like vultures. They want to prey on my fears, they want to eat me alive from the inside out. They would destroy me. No, they would have me destroy myself. I need him, need to be with him, need him to hold me.
Ringing ringing ringing. I smile. He is asleep. He is resting. I can feel his slow constant breathing on my neck and shoulders. There he is beside me -- he was there all along I just couldn't see him. One arm is under my head, right there, and the other around my stomach, his cheek against mine. He smells so good, that familiar smell that is so distinctly only him. I smile again -- I might wake him up.
No answer. My eyes burst open. It was only a dream. I am still cold, I am still alone, I am still afraid. I had fallen asleep finally, though only for less than 30 seconds. Why did I call him? What if I had broken his silence, his solice, his sweet long awaited slumber? How could I have been so selfish? I am ashamed of myself. I slowly put my phone back in its place, defeated. I must learn to live without, I must learn how to stand on my own, I must be strong by myself, but I don't want to. I just want to sleep.