Pretend You Don’t Notice

Prompt courtesy of Be Kind Rewrite. Be sure to head over there to read more great writing.

Maybe.

Maybe if you just close your eyes, pretend you don’t notice. Maybe if you ignore the sharks, wolves or whatever predatory thoughts are surrounding you. Maybe if you pulled the blanket up over your head, you could fall asleep for just a few hours.

You need to get some sleep.

Just don’t think about it. Think about something else. Remember that time you and your cousin snuck out of grandma’s house? He had gotten a pint of peppermint schnapps and you both sat behind the old shed, taking small sips, but pretending to gulp. The liquor tingled and burned as it flowed down your throat and made your chest tight and hot.

Whatever you do, don’t associate the anxiety you have with that feeling you had. Two different things completely.

Maybe you should get a drink of water. Maybe if you did more exercise, your body would be more tired, and you wouldn’t have to deal with this nightly circus of hundreds of fears packed into little cars, or doubts flying up on the trapeze, or self-loathing dressed up like a ballerina and balancing on a big rubber ball.

You can always talk to someone. I don’t know whom exactly.

Or you can pretend to be busy, occupied. Keep forcing that smile. Keep getting early to an empty bed, a cold apartment, clothes that used to fit, but now have stretched out seams about to snap. Walk through the salty dirt of the city streets. You can shake your head when the metallic voice says the subway is shutdown, again. Bury your nose in your computer screen, and hope the dull hum of the fan lulls you to a place of just enough brain activity to function.

Maybe if you turn on your side your back will stop hurting and you can fall asleep.

Maybe you should accept you made mistakes. You keep thinking about those mistakes. They gnaw at you. From the inside. You probably have little cartoon teethmarks all over your heart and lungs and stomach and brains.

You ever wonder if you are just a little bit obsessive? Neurotic maybe?

It’s four in the morning. You need to get up in two hours. Just close your eyes and think of how tomorrow your eyes will be wide open, all the time. How you’ll walk with your shoulders back, and sneer at all the little obstacles set to trip you up.  You won’t just ignore them, but confront them. You’ll put your nose right up against theirs and snarl.

But you need to get some sleep.