I’m so tired. I felt afraid earlier. It was around 11 PM. I was really afraid and I’m tired of being afraid, so I decided to lie down next to my husband on the sofa and I fell asleep. I kept waking up because he kept waking up because he was squished since I was all over him. Then he went to bed and I stayed up. I don’t know where the night went. I wasted it. I flipped through the channels, actually ended up watching one program, flipped through the channels some more, went on the computer a few times, thought about the things I should do, drank a couple of glasses of water, had something to eat, and I spaced out a lot off and on. I had plenty of things to do, but didn’t do much. I was tired and I don’t feel good inside at night. Now when I look at the clock and know that I really must get ready for bed, I feel scared. I don’t want to brush my teeth and I don’t want to take a shower, but I have to because it feels nasty to be grubby. Still, thinking of doing these things fills me with dread. It makes me feel like they are things that are nearly beyond my ability to accomplish on my own. I feel like my body is weighed down, as if some force is being exerted against me in an attempt to stop me from doing these things. I have that feeling I get where I don’t want my arms or legs to get very far away from my body. Like I need them to stay very near to the rest of me. How can I brush my teeth or shower when I must let my arms and legs stray from the rest of my body in order to do it? I feel like I really do want to go to sleep, because I’m tired. On the other hand, I’m scared. It’s like this every night.

My body is tired. So is my mind. Even my soul feels tired. I’m so tired, but I have the dread and there is crying going on inside of me somewhere. I can feel it. It’s a very sad crying. Very sad and very scared. If I try to comfort it when I get into bed, that’s when it overwhelms me or when I hear the voice of the little girl in my head. She rarely says enough for me to be able to understand what she's upset about, and when she tries to say more or to be more specific, then there is a panic attack and/ or a slide down a rabbit hole. I never know what to do about bed. I don’t feel good.