Conscious Midnight Horrors

Anxiety is one hell of a drug. Racing heart. Shaking hands. Hot and cold flashes. No sleep because the brain won’t stop. Worry, fear, anger. Beautiful fearful bliss.

It’s past midnight now as I sit here typing and listening to Zen music. I have an interview tomorrow morning and I’m anxious about screwing it up. It’s a simple nervousness that was easy to ignore. I was falling asleep, focusing on the light in the darkness and praying for a sleep without a nightmare. I was almost there. Almost to that void that sucks me in through the night. I would have enjoyed it, even if it were a nightmare. At least I would have slept. Things didn't go as planned.

As soon as I hit my comfort zone and started to doze off, I heard it. The noise that would keep me awake for the rest of the night. It sounded like a plastic solo cup falling off of a shelf. I thought I was being robbed. Right now, I’m not sure which one I would have preferred.

The noise startled me awake. I instantly reached for my fiancé and woke him up. We laid in bed waiting to hear another noise. When we didn’t, I started getting more worried. Our eldest child sleeps downstairs, and with a noise loud enough to wake me from my almost-sleep upstairs, I figured he was also awake. I sent my fiancé down and got ready to call 911 in case there really was an intruder.

My fiancé came back up and informed me that the ceiling under the shower was leaking. I had just gotten a bath thirty minutes before, and since we’ve had a problem like this before, I didn’t think too much into it. I had to check it out though, at least to assess the damage. I regret even going down to look, because now I’m not sure when I'll sleep again.

The noise that I had heard was our ceiling cracking. Directly under the shower, above our sink and pantry, and right next to our eldest’s room. Water covered our floor only to be absorbed quickly by the shoddy fake lamination that our slum-lord had put down. That’s when the anxiety peaked.

I quickly lost all desire to sleep. I lost all desire to do anything except sit by this crack in case the tub falls through the floor. At least that way, I can easily pull my child out of danger. I’m holding back urges to wake up the entire house and rearrange everything to avoid this crack. I want to wake up the youngest just to make sure the floor isn't flooded because they’re next to the bathroom. I can’t even call Mr.Slum-lord to come and fix it because of the emotional distress he causes my family. He’s even bold enough to ruin our personal property and talk bad about us to his employees (caught directly via baby monitor).

It’s been about two hours now. I’ve smoked enough cigarettes to make a chain smoker sick. I laid in bed and tossed and turned. I tried browsing Facebook stories and memes. My heart will not stop racing.

I feel like I’ve drunk ten energy drinks. Did hundreds of dollars worth of cocaine. Eaten thirty pounds of coffee beans. All at once. I am highly sensitive to every noise, smell, and feeling around me. My body trembles each time a passing car hits a pothole. I hate living like this. It’s not my first rodeo with an all night anxiety attack. Fear walking through my comfort zone with its shoes on like it owns the place.

So tonight I decided, no more. Tonight I have decided to talk to my doctor about a prescription to help with my attacks. Not one that I take all the time, just one to take when my attacks are uncontrollable like this. Most times breathing and music help. Sometimes they do not. I want times like this, when I’m awake by myself in this quiet household listening to Zen music, to not be filled with fear and anguish. I wish to be able to close my eyes, and stop intrusive thoughts after something has shaken my core.

Tomorrow will be another day filled with anxiety. Happy anxiety though, unlike tonight's fear. Job interview, talking to my doctor about bettering my life. All of the chores are already done so I’m not sure how I’ll handle this anxiety. I’ll probably play the game I’ve beaten countless times or shop for items that are completely unrealistic for me to have right now. Maybe I’ll call up the tattoo artist for some ink therapy. Maybe I’ll call my therapist (I’ll probably call my therapist).

As for tonight, since my bathroom is off limits, I’m going to binge watch my new show until I pass out. I might get an episode or two in. They’re about an hour long. As long as I’m up in five hours to get the household ready for the day. Two to three hours of sleep, that’s a pretty normal night. Maybe tonight I’ll dream of darkness instead of the consternating nightmares that haunt my sleep.