Acrylic on Canvas. 2017.
I’m afraid of the dark.
Like, for real.
And it’s not because I think there are trolls in the basement, or Civil War ghosts in the attic. (But—ahem—now that I’ve revived that thought, I might crawl into bed even earlier tonight.)
(pulls the blanket up to her chin)
I’m afraid of my own mind.
Because as soon as the sun sets, I feel an impending sense of doom.
I feel cold, exposed, jittery, uncertain, and like society has closed its doors for all time.
All of the coffee I sipped throughout the day suddenly backfires, and my heart feels like a Jack-in-the-Box.
You don’t know what you’re doing. They’re talking about you. It’s your fault. You’re a disappointment.
The darkness breathes on, for what seems to be an eternal damnation of self doubt.
And when those first shards of morning light filter in through the blinds?
Those worries appear oh-so-foolish.
Because it’s time for scrambled eggs, one cup-two cups of coffee, and general merry-making.
Paul McCartney songs. Dr. Seuss books. Old cartoons. Walks in the sunshine. Amazing coupon adventures at the local CVS.
Simple pleasures.
A delicious little life, with pure bliss seemingly stretched out before me.
So how, my Dear Reader, do I silence these haunting voices of the night?
. . .
Do you have nighttime anxiety? What’s your bedtime routine?
Help a SnapDragon out, yo. 🙏🏻
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer and artist who just wants to live in a gingerbread house.
Follow Snippets of Snapdragon for tidbits of whatever.