My Safe Place

Chamomile tea, check; Lights out, check; Talked to bestie, check; No caffeine after 3PM, check; Cool temperature, check; Ambien taken, check. This my routine everyday and yet I still can’t sleep. Still wide awake like it’s time to play. Insomnia is so frustrating because it has no definitive cause. Since my doctor couldn’t pin point it she decided it must be mental, suggested I see a therapist.  Well we’re on the six month of couch time and still no answer. So they give me these miracle working pills. Ambien has become my savior on  most nights but not lately. I’m scared, scared to sleep in my own bed. Not sure what memory has triggered the fear but it won’t leave me alone. There in the silence of my bedroom my heart pounds and my nervous system tingles.  My bedroom, a room that should be a sanctuary of comfort and peace, I lay terrified. Terrified of  what I’m not quite sure. Maybe a break-in, maybe an assault, maybe oversleeping, maybe my hopes and dreams, maybe rejection, maybe I’m just scared of myself. The me  I am and the me I am becoming. I’m not sure what it is that my brain insists on recalling at 2AM but couldn’t we discuss it in the morning. For once couldn’t my mind be at peace instead of creating the possibility of something that may never happen. So for now I head to my solace, my poppy seed field, my couch. It’s well worn no doubt from the countless lunchtime naps that keep me going. It’s my safe place, fear doesn’t follow me to the couch.