3:21

Sleep never comes. I hear the fridge snore, the rain pour, the clankclonk in the walls from who knows where. My thoughts spin and my heart races. Moths flutter in my chest. What am I doing here? Who have I become? And why? I feel like I'm both victimizing and villifying myself at the same time. I think bad, bad thoughts. Good thoughts seep in here and there, but they rarely stay for more than a moment or two. I'm thankful. I'm lucky. I'm tough, and I'm brave. But I'm also sad, wounded, and afraid. I don't yell anymore. Now I just cry. Or stare at walls. Chainsmoke. Sit idly, thinking about all the things I could be doing, but too overwhelmed to move.