Sleep

Close your eyes. It's not happening. Of course, you're not stupid. But you have learned to play the mind. There are tricks and hiding places. You know them well. So, close your eyes. Picture the color green. Make your entire mindscape green. And I mean the whole fucking thing. Like St. Patrick's Day exploded inside your head.

Ignore the sweat slick twitching and the pain. You own your brain, you own the pain. It belongs to you, and only you can control it. They say you can't. They say lots of things. You sit in hard wooden pews and listen to them and you think: "They can't possibly mean all this shit...I will never forgive."

You didn't realize at the time that other people lived different lives. That your friends went to bed smiling and happy while you climbed the walls and prayed that the hands on the clock would stop moving. Even as you watched them smiling, you hated them for 'pretending' at happiness.

Pull it over you, around your body like silk. Cool. Wrap it tight and nothing can touch you. It's got nothing to do with you and it's got nothing to do with them. That's the weirdest part. Because of something that happened to someone you never met and no one will ever talk about, you jump when a door closes. You flinch when someone puts a hand on your shoulder. But you are getting better at making yourself wooden. It just takes practice.

When sleep does come, it is so deep that waking is like climbing a sheer rock face blindfolded. You open your eyes and everything seems like a dream and you want to go back to sleep where at least there was peace, quiet, and hope. Where you were not afraid and you did not feel shame.