Insomnia

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Insomnia. It is something most people don’t know about, don’t think about, don’t have but not me; for me insomnia is an old friend creeping up on me as the night sky turns black and won’t leave me, even as I ache for sleep. I toss and turn all night waiting for sleep to take me, to pull me under and never let go. I wait all night but it doesn’t come; my head is full with everything about you, every small detail of your face your eyes all of our good and bad times we ever had together. I can’t keep my eyes shut, every nerve in my body is running like a live wire, I am itching to get out of my oversized bed stuffed with pillows and soft blankets. I try everything, listening to music, which of course is sad stuff that only reminds me of you and how we can never be together which makes me kick, cry, scream, and screech into my pillow. I clutch it close to me trying to pretend that it’s you I am holding. I turn off the music and try to think about what it would be like if you were in bed next to me whispering soothing words in my ear trying to help me fall asleep. Somehow in one way or another this almost works, until my eyes snap open wanting anything in the world besides being closed surrounding me in a pool of darkness. I roll on my side feeling empty inside and at the same time full to the brim, I tuck my knees to my chest thinking about you next to me again to see if my eyes will fall and stay shut; but of course they don’t. I turn over and lay on my back defeated; I stare up at the small lines of silver moonlight on my ceiling and while looking at them I think of you. I think about all the things you said to me, good and bad the bad things hurt and sadly so do the good things because I know that the good things aren‘t meant because you love me. I soon feel like everything hurts which makes me so frustrated that I grab fistfuls of m hair and pull while turning onto my stomach to press my face into the pillow. Tears streak down my face when the image of the day you got lost in the woods rushes to my brain. I run through the whole scene over and over again wishing I could’ve been there again in that moment so that when you came out of those woods I would be in your arms and you would hold me. Depression creeps up on me and I toss hoping to stop it from coming trying not to think about it; trying not to think about the parents of my friends who think that I cut myself, why they think that is a whole other story. Tears spilled and I tried to take myself out of the dark whole swallowing me up into despair. You are not sad there is nothing to be sad or frustrated about you have family and friends that love you; as soon I thought that the other side of me came crawling out. The other half of me pulls me down, you are alone you should be sad none of your friends understand you are lost you don’t belong and Scott will never love you. The last bit of it hurts the most, pain stabs me like a knife twisted into my gut, I cry harder because I want his arms around me so badly that my whole body shakes. I pull my the blankets tight around me and I clutch onto my pillow wishing he was here beside me to hold me so tight that I can’t breathe so I can feel safe, loved. I shake and shudder as my body trembles, reaches for anything to hold onto; I push the nerve-racking thought away and try closing my eyes again hoping that they won’t open, but they do. I draw the blanket up over my head and just as I do a heavy load of depression sinks in. To feel the heat of your breath on my cheek, hear the sound of your heartbeat next to mine, smell the funny guy smelling scent of you, and to know that you are beside me with your arms tight around me never wanting to let go I would do anything for it, anything. The weight of the pain crushes me as I realized what is happening, I feel lost, unknown, and definitely alone. I reach for my Ipod and blast music in my ears focusing on the words of the song instead of the ones floating in my head threatening to increase the pain, the hurt. The clock says 5:45am and I know that it would be pointless to go to sleep now since I have to get up at six anyway. I stay under the covers until the light in my room has been turned on and the covers are thrown off of me. I stretch wanting sleep, wanting it so bad; maybe more than wanting love but I doubt it. I touch my aching toes to the floor and I walk around like a zombie for the rest of the day. I know now that I have insomnia, sleep is nothing to me, now sleep is a distant ghost in the past, one that I doubt I will ever find again, I am an insomniac.





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