The Nighttime Log of an Anxious Mind

8:00 p.m.

Take the white oval pill conveniently placed in my bed table drawer. I’ve been doing this for months. There’s no way I can forget this.

8:30 p.m.

I have to double check if I took that pill. Count the pills in the package. There were 10 yesterday, it should be nine today.

9:00 p.m.

Get my favorite book. I prepare my brain to have the well-deserved rest I’ve been dreaming about all day.

9:30 p.m.

I am now ready to sleep. Didn’t have a good sleep yesterday. I better sleep early today. I lay on my side, hug a pillow and close my eyes.

10:00 p.m.

As soon as I start to contemplate the thought of sleeping and resting, a few thoughts begin to emerge in the darkness of my room.

10:10 p.m.

“Not again. Not today. I am tired. I want to sleep. I need to sleep,” I say to myself. “I have to wake up early tomorrow. Please, sleep”

10:30 p.m.

Thoughts are passing, racing through my brain. Each thought starts in a simple and innocent way, “My birthday is coming.” It always ends in the most heart-wrenching manner. “I am alone.” My mind starts to grab the littlest details in my life and turns them into the biggest devastation.

11:00 p.m.

As time passes, I begin to do all the breathing practices I have read and watched videos about. 1, 2, 3 —  inhale.  1, 2, 3 — exhale.

11:30 p.m.

“Talk to God” comes from within. And I start to pray. But I must give thanks first, because, how ungrateful would I be to God if I just start by making my requests?

12:00 p.m.

“It’s midnight already. Sleep. I need to wake up early”

12:30 p.m.

The silence and calm of midnight contrast with the loudness of my thoughts. There is no escaping them, no distraction to forget them with. I am left alone in the immense noise of what could go wrong.

1:00 a.m.

The thoughts are now obsessive, one thing leads to another. They all have a thing in common, they end in overwhelming scenarios. “I am so alone. I got no one,” it always ends up there.

1:15 a.m.

I am now obsessing about that comment my friend said yesterday. “She must dislike me.” Now that I’m thinking about friends, I remember, “My birthday is coming soon.” Time to start obsessing about the place where I will have dinner with my friends to celebrate. “Should be a place with good food, but at a low price. I want all my friends to enjoy the meal. Must have a great vibe. One of my friends doesn’t eat seafood, sushi place is not a possibility. It should have a cool spot to take pictures. Must be close to everyone’s homes. What if somebody doesn’t like it? Everyone should have a great time. But what if they don’t?”

1:30 a.m.

My brain is running at such a high speed, without sign of slowing down, that tears begin to fall. It has been unleashed. Anxiety is here and it has come to stay.

2:00 a.m.

In the darkness of night, I try to reach out to a friend. But, the voice in my brain reminds me I’ve got no one to text. I immediately remember that last time I texted one of my friends at night, he shrugged it off. “Nobody cares. Why should them?” Still, I start to type.

2:15 a.m.

“You are a burden to everyone around you. Your friends must be overwhelmed by you. Stop giving them so much trouble,” I hear. Decide not to text anyone. Delete the message. Nobody wants to be burdened by that.

2:30 a.m.

As of right now, the thought of the sun rising is the only thing that gives me hope. “Can this torment end by now?” I say to myself. “You will do terrible at your job. You have way too many tasks. You will fail,” my mind answers.

3:00 a.m.

I am tired to the point of being done. I check the clock, not with the hope of calculating the time I could sleep, but because I want this torture to end. “Can the sun rise already?”

3:30 a.m.

“Two more hours and I’ll be free.” The thought of being at work, busy and distracted, comforts me.

4:00 a.m.

“You will suck at work. And remember the mistake from last week? You will probably get fired.”

5:30 a.m.

I get up, and move on to the day. Hope that today will be different.

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Thinkstock photo via MatiasEnElMundo