| insomnia writes a confused letter |
[24 Aug 2005|11:59pm] |
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music |
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Portishead - Only You |
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Dear XXXXX*,
It's been a strange night and despite having just barely managed to stay awake the whole way home, I now can't sleep. Anxiety has been creeping up on me all night, I think, and the little Ativan I'm willing to take this close to when I have to wake up in the morning doesn't seem to be enough to beat it back.
It's quiet and lonely here. I feel like I should call you. I feel like I should call you and tell you everything, try to get it all straightened out in my mind by pouring it all out in front of someone I trust... or I feel like I should call and tell you to just keep talking, that I just need to hear your voice for a little while so maybe I can sleep. But what if I called you and it didn't help? If I told you everything or if I just listened to your voice for a while and it didn't leave me feeling better, I think I'd feel worse for not feeling better and therein the anxiety builds and starts to eat away at me and has me writing this rather than calling you.
I wish I knew when I started feeling this way... though actually, I suppose I do know--I think I've always had these heavy moments of anxiety and self-doubt and second-guessing. Always. How horrible is that? I don't know why. I should just stop writing this, maybe quit while I'm ahead, before I've said too much about myself and... Maybe I should just call you. Maybe I should tell you everything. Maybe I should just listen to the sound of your voice.
Maybe I should stop thinking and worrying and trying to stay ahead of fate/destiny/the future--maybe I should just let go of all that and just do. Maybe I should just go to bed and leave all the maybes and feelings to tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow (and maybe I'll even see you out of the corner of my eye or hear an echo of your voice as I fall asleep).
- me
* I don't even know who I'm writing this to... a few people have come to mind, but no one seems like quite the right person.
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