I’m overwhelmingly tired, my mind and body on the verge of complete exhaustion, but I’m too scared to sleep. The quiet is too much. I can’t hear anything, my anxiety is on high alert, and my mind cannot accept the fact that I can’t hear those small little squeaks and creaks that urge you to wake up when something is going on around you. I don’t want to think about this being permanent. I don’t want to think that thought into existence, but doing that requires even a sliver of hope. And that is something I don’t have.
