Night

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Can’t sleep, again. If only I could turn my mind off for that bliss of not thinking for a while, at least.
Cole coughs in the next room. I once heard the expression that there is no lonelier sound than a child’s cough in the night. He’s been sick for a week now, his little voice hoarse and scratchy, coughing and coughing. Another reason for me to walk the apartment at night.
I force myself to speak up in Group, though it is painful. I deliver my words to the floor, because it hurts to look anyone in the eye. I tell the truth. I rock in my chair and squeeze my hands together, feel judged, feel validated. It’s hard work, all this therapy at once and having to look at yourself in all kinds of ways you have never thought of. Which is why…
You’d think I would be able to sleep.

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