I can't sleep. I haven't taken a sleeping pill in four days. I'm tired, but all I can do is lay in bed, craving and dreading the blissful yet tormenting darkness.
Sick to my stomach and sick at heart. It's like there's a fist wrapped around both of those organs, squeezing and twisting me into pretzel-shaped knots. I know why. And it isn't very fun, either.
It's caused by dreams. Dreams that I've been having for the past several days, now progressing into weeks. Full of anger and hatred towards me for reasons I don't know. One figure in particular is present in each nightly visit. The look he gives me is full of such loathing that I cringe away from him, wondering what I could have possibly done to make him look at me that way. And I can't wake up. I lay there, encased in fear and tears, unable to speak or move. Unable to escape into awareness.
They're just dreams, right? But now they haunt my waking hours, making me feel physically sick. I can't stand it. I can't even sleep anymore. The fear of dreams renders it impossible, yet the fear continues when I'm not dreaming.
Is this making any sense at all? No, not really.