|Slice of Life Tuesdays|
When I was a little girl,
sleep and I were never friendly.
Either the sandman didn't visit
or he took me to some nightmarish country.
So often on those rare nights
when my eyes stayed closed,
my mind went traveling
as my body innocently dozed.
More often than not
I found myself in an infinite room
stretching farther than I could see,
filled not only with the dark, murky gloom.
This immeasurable room was always somehow full
with something like trash or toys or trinkets.
Somehow I knew that I was tasked with cleaning it
or I would send some innocent to an early casket.
Seeing my impossible task
my heart and lungs stopped working.
Except to fuel the tears that broke from my eyes.
Somewhere my demons were smirking.
I often woke up screaming.
My body aching from the paralyzing task.
Each time I felt myself shutting down more.
Even if someone real would look to me for help and ask.
Though I am now much older
and the dreams of that room have vanished.
I still suffer from that incapacitating fear.
I'm easily overwhelmed and anguished.
Now a mother and a wife
I am often faced with rooms in disarray.
And though they are not infinite my heart beats hard.
I may find myself holding the doorknob just to make myself stay.
I am overwhelmed.
But I know I am equal to this undertaking.
I may still struggle with anxiety
but I am able. Sleeping or waking.