Thoughts in the Night


I haven’t told my dad about the program. He doesn’t understand anxiety and depression as a disease; he sees it as something that I should just get over. He has said, “What do you need that medicine for?” ever since I started taking medication. He will not understand.
Tomorrow he is coming over, taking Cole for the afternoon. I don’t want to lie to him, but I know he will ask me about work and though I’ve been working harder than ever in my life, he still won’t understand.
So it’s 12:08 in the morning and I can’t sleep, worrying. In Group they call it Racing Thoughts. I’ve tried my usual things with no success, am now watching Friends and trying to get tired.
I had to lock the kitten out of my room; he kept attacking my hands. I have tiny scratches all over my hands and feet courtesy of him. He gets behind my pillow and runs back and forth, back and forth. Only in the middle of the night or the very early morning, of course.
My entire family is at my brother’s graduation. I am not. A kid who is weird about sleeping away from home coupled with finances equals I stayed home. My brother is the Golden Child of the family. I tease him and he grins, handsome and together, everything his scattered sister isn’t. He already has a job waiting for him making more than I do. Hell yes I’m jealous, jealous and proud as fuck.
What will I tell my dad? I don’t want to lie but I’m fragile right now, can’t take his negative words. I’m raw from excessive therapy. I have reached deep inside myself and vomited my crazy all over the place and it feels good but uncomfortable. I’ve worked harder in the last couple weeks than I have in years of therapy.
My window is open and it’s chilly. The back of the next apartment building looks like a hotel, and I can lay in my bed and watch people come and go. The lights make it so my room is never completely dark, and that’s okay with me.
My dad is coming at 11. I need to get some sleep…


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