Maybe Dawn was right. I needed to have a session with Dr. Shaw, even though I didn’t see anything helping me with my messed-up thoughts.
After making sure the doors were shut tight and locked, I pulled the Afghan blanket from the back of the couch, around my shoulders and I laid down. Maybe a small nap would help sort things out, or at least help me make it through another long night.
***
“Sorry, hon. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Dawn’s voice was quiet, as though I was still asleep.
I rubbed the dried tears from both eyes before sitting up slowly.
I wasn’t sure what time it was, but the living room was dark, and it felt a tad chillier than it had earlier.
“If I had known you were napping, I wouldn’t have turned the light on. I wasn’t expecting you here.”
I lifted a shoulder while pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
“You haven’t been sleeping well.”
I moved my gaze to the floor before I could see the sympathy in hers.
“I wish you’d tell me why. You can always tell me, you know. I won’t think any less of you.”
I breathed in deep before releasing it.
That was kind of the problem though. I couldn’t put words into what was going on in my mind. I didn’t even know how to explain it in a way anyone else could possibly understand.
“I’m going to start on dinner. You know where to find me.” With that, Dawn turned, leaving me to myself and my thoughts once more.
Slowly, I pushed myself from the couch. I wasn’t in the mood to be left alone. The night already felt long and it hadn’t exactly started. The clock on the wall said it was just a little after six, and I hated how dark it was outside already.
Like I expected, a notebook was opened to a blank page with a pen laying right on top.
Dawn sure did know how to pull out words from me, even when I didn’t exactly want to talk in any form.
Sitting on the stool, I tightened the blanket once more before picking up the black pen and tapping it on the notebook a few times before writing down something. Even if I didn’t want Dawn to read it, it would at least maybe help sort out the jumbled mess inside my head.
I don’t like change. It’s too dark. The monsters are trying to pull me under again. The neighbor’s grandkid is here. He stopped by. Not sure what’s with him. He makes me feel weird. A feeling I haven’t felt before. Same guy at the coffee shop. I’m tired. Haven’t slept well. Nightmares, mostly. Don’t want meds for it. Don’t want to talk to Dr either. No one can help. I’ll be okay. Hopefully. Maybe. Or not. Who cares?
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. All my thoughts came written out in a mess that made no sense unless you were me.
In a way, I poured my heart and soul into the words. In between my inner thoughts about being tired, about feeling so low about myself, I wrote about the past. I wrote how men used me. I scribbled out angrily how unfair it was that I missed out on life in so many different ways.
I hadn’t celebrated any sort of holiday or birthday until I came to be here with Dawn. Even though she didn’t give me ten million things, the few things she did meant the world to me. The tablet I used more than I thought I would.
For my first Christmas, Dawn had given me clothes and some craft things for me to try, like puzzles and gem art. I wasn’t a fan of either, but I still worked on them slowly when the weather was too cold for me to be outside.
I appreciated every little thing she did. So many times, she’d gone out of her way to make my life better in a way that I never thought was possible. Like when she noticed I didn’t like a certain texture of clothes, they ended up disappearing from my closet at one point. Only to be replaced with softer things.
I sniffed, writing the last sentence before setting the pen down.
Thank you, Dawn. For everything. I don’t know if I’d be alive if it weren’t for you.
If there was anything I could do to show her how much I am thankful for everything, I’d do it.
Keeping the house clean wasn’t enough. Helping with laundry didn’t return the favor she’d done for me.
All I could do was try to live. Try to figure out a way to survive this world as the monsters kept trying to chase me and pulling me back.
I wiped away the tears that started falling during the time I was writing, a few drips hitting the paper and smudging the words. For once, maybe writing it all down did help. The weight on my shoulders wasn’t so heavy, my thoughts were a bit clearer, and for a single moment, everything felt normal.
