The mornings are the worst. How do you get up when there’s nothing to get up for? Nowhere to go and few things left to do in such a small space. The books have all been read and the movies watched. The music has been listened to over and over and becomes more pointless in each instance. Artists sing about places they’ve been and things they’ve seen and I can’t go to any of them. I have total freedom to do what I want with the day and yet I can do nothing but languish in this space.
The nights are the worst. Why sleep when there’s no reason to get up in the morning? Why rest when the whole day is spent resting? As the house grows quiet and the wind blows outside there is nothing to do but lie and wait for the light. Waiting through every creak of the floorboards and every screech from the cats outside. Tossing and turning and getting hot and sweaty, anxiety creeps in must sleep, must get sleep, need to drop off somehow’
Anxiety actively put aside. Close your eyes and think of the sea (can’t go there). Listen to the waves lap the shore and the whisper of the sea crashing against the rocks further along the coast. Sleep begins to creep in until you see it creeping and then the senses take over and once more you toss and then you turn. Cycle begins once more. Eyes are open determined to close and remain closed. Think of a scenario and let the imagination take you deep into it until you’re dreaming and then you’ll sleep. A scenario takes hold and finally sleep takes over and the body becomes limp. Dreams run rife but all are weighed down with thoughts from the day. Heavy thoughts of desperation and depression which will be replayed tomorrow without a stop button.
Action must be taken but action is hard to take from a position of such powerlessness and worthlessness. Dreams become relaxed and the mind goes through slight catharsis until the light breaks into the room through the gap in the curtains.
Awake but still tired, there’s nothing to rise for. Doze for another hour and for this hour having nothing to do is a blessing. Rest is needed to recover from the trauma of the night. Rest taken, fully rested its time to get up, but still there’s nothing to do, nothing to get up for. The books have all been read and the movies watched. The music has been listened to over and over. There’s nowhere to go and few things to do in such a small place. The mornings are the worst.
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