It’s nearly 1 in the morning. My husband is asleep despite my attempts of procrastination to keep him up with me. I’m tired and I have less than 5 hours until I need to be awake and useful to the world, but I can’t close my eyes.
Fear consumes me in these hours. The fear of closing my eyes, the fear of nightmares, the fear of waking up and repeating the misery.
These hours are the only ones I have to myself. Everyone is asleep but me. I’m alone with myself and my thoughts. It’s haunting and peaceful, or at least different.
I haven’t slept in a few days now. I’m exhausted but I can’t make it happen.
Then the dark thoughts creep in and it gets even harder to attempt sleep.
The world doesn’t stop. The thoughts don’t stop. That’s the way it goes. I’m familiar with the cycle.
Writing this is yet another attempt and occupying my mind in efforts to procrastinate further. I know I’m tired. My body is tired. I’ll probably be physically useless tomorrow.
If all I want is to sleep and rest and be still during the day, why is it so hard at night?