• Member Since 15th Aug, 2018
  • offline last seen Tuesday

Saint Kartano


I will not be active on here. Find me on Discord: saintkartano or just email me (kartano@gmail.com)

More Blog Posts55

Oct
31st
2022

Wishing I could write, stressing about work · 9:03pm Oct 31st, 2022

I keep hoping that I will awake someday and have the desire to write once again. I have a lot of stories in the works including some personal stories that I've been writing just for particular people.

It seems that the first creatures to greet me each morning are my apathy, my lethargy, my fear, and my fatigue. I find myself sitting on the edge of my bed as the chorus of that evening's nightmares pass vaguely through my mind. If I am fortunate, they are the typical nightmares whose substance is burned off during my walk to the restroom or the kitchen.

Since my physician cut my anxiety medication dose by half, I am having nightmares that will leave myself screaming awake every other night. These nightmares stick with me for days at a time, interfere with my now limited ability to concentrate on tasks, and the fear of them feeds back into my mind each night when I try to sleep again. A sleep which I will not achieve with a number of panic attacks that leave me gasping for no particular reason - sometimes thinking I'm having a stroke or a seizure.

And that's what frames my days now. Waking up exhausted from nightmares, trudging through my day wondering when I'm going to get sacked next, wondering what the next catastrophe I am going to face will be. Then going to bed at night to sustain repeated panic episodes, existential dread, and still more nightmares that leave me screaming and the bed soaked in sweat.

I take back all those nights in my childhood when I complained about going to bed early, about not being sleepy. All those times I thought that a nightmare about weird creatures hiding under our water tank was terrifying. I'd happily share a house with those demons now - they have to be better than the nightmares where I'm digging my own grave, being slowly eviscerated, being eaten alive, being beaten to death, being chased down by the friends I've seen buried during my lifetime. I'd love a night's sleep where bruxism doesn't break my teeth and where xerostomia doesn't contrive to help erode the enamel of them either.

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