And I am afraid to close my eyes. I sleep in fits and starts, intervals of peaceless awake. Peaceless asleep. Terrors imagined, terrors past, terrors not to come dance in a sickening ballet in technicolor. My dreams, a bloody stageshow.
Rolling black clouds came in over the sunlit mountains, as I drove home today. I wondered how much rain they would bring, rain that lulls me to sleep. Rain that beats against my windows, and slides down the interior landscape of my dreams. Like fingers on a harp. Nature music to lay awake to, when sleeping becomes to much to bear.
Panic plays her special games with my rest, using it to her advantage when I have not given her enough consideration. When no breakdown has occurred in an extended period of time, the nightmares return, to leave me without rest. I become unable to function. Panic follows behind, waiting for a slight stumble. She knows just when to strike.
Right as the day closes.