Make It StopMature

Sleepless Nights

I don't remember much of the beginning.

Then again I don't remember much at all.

I can remember back to the year I was three.  I remember never sleeping at night.  I was often plagued with strange dreams that either made no sense or warped into nightmares, sometimes both. 

When my parents were together, I would pace in my room, trying to figure something out.  Some nights, I'd fall asleep elsewhere like the closet or the bassinet of toys in my room. 

When they separated, I lost that luxury.  My mother and I lived in a one bedroom apartment after that and my sleeping routines were now disruptive for her.  I soon found another strategy.  We had a window in the room, very small and way up high but I used to climb up to it and hang from the ledge and stare out at the cars below that passed.  It wasn't very effective as I would stare for hours on end before finally giving up and letting sleep succumb me in the wee hours of the morning.

With my father's family, my insomnia only grew worse.  At my grandparent's house, my father used to put me to bed at a later time than I should have slept but would be watching some sort of gory thriller before I went to sleep.  I refused to watch it but when I settle into the monstrous queen bed that was designated for me, I would hear the creep sounds of the films floating up the staircase and into my room.  I'd hide beneath the covers in fear, still being afraid of the dark and monsters under my bed and only having this solidify it. 

At their cottage, I used to lay awake at night in fear.  Not of the nightmares or potentially the bears or wolves that could lurk outside, those dangers were nagging me in the back of my mind.  What terrified me came in the silence as a high pitched "neeeeeee..."  Every night I'd hear the mosquitoes buzzing around my room and every night I would scream in fear.  Not even the moth-eaten blankets could save me from their terrible cries.  I'd scream until I was hoarse or until I fell asleep.  Every night I did this but no one ever came.

I remember getting up every night and clutching close my stuffed cocker spaniel Spunky to find my parents.  To have them comfort me and rid my fear.  But every night I'd get the same response to my sleepless issues:  "Just try"

The insomnia didn't last forever but the dreams never left.  I still wonder to this day if there an omen, or a sign.  But when I'd voice this, no one ever listened so I learned to grow silent, much to my own demise.

The End

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