I should be sleeping

I say these words nearly every night.

I should be sleeping.

But instead, I’m up scrolling my newsfeeds, refreshing over and over even though I know it’s 2am and none of my friends are awake.

I should be sleeping.

But instead, I’m up worrying about bills and how I’m not contributing enough to this family and how I’m probably screwing my kids up because I can’t get my mental health in check and how I’m not even sure if my husband loves me anymore or if any of my friends actually like me even though I know those two things are just in my head and how every time I try to do something to make myself more successful or happier or just not me it goes wrong.

I should be sleeping.

But instead I’m having an existential crisis because our world is falling apart and I’m just one person and I don’t matter in the big picture even though I matter in a hundred tiny pictures.

I should be sleeping.

But instead, I’m checking on the kids. Twice. Three times. Four times. Because the nightmares I have when I don’t check on them throughout the night are worse than not sleeping at all.

I should be sleeping.

But 2am is the only time my house is quiet, and dammit sometimes I just need some peace.

I should be sleeping.

But depression and anxiety and insomnia have teamed up against me once again. Like they have pretty much constantly since the 4th grade when I learned that my family was full of secrets.

I should be sleeping

But instead, I’m writing my thoughts down because sometimes I feel like that’s the only thing I have that’s mine.

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