I'm almost afraid to give in and surrender to the beckoning of my bed.
Why? Why does my mind insist on this torturous self-sabotage?
Maladjusted. Sleep-deprived. Anxious. Foggy. Fearful.
Dread, welling up in my gut and in my chest, taking over my body, gaining a foothold on my mind, and drowning out my light.
Abnormal. Freakish. Screwed up.
I do not want this.
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