Disappearing Into Sleep
When depression leaves you nowhere else to go
Buzzing Off to Dreamland
Sometimes I want to hide in plain sight. Invisible to the world. A silent fly on the wall, bug eyes and ears covered by tiny wings.
I don’t feel much bigger than an insect. Small and worthless. No offense to insects.
I’m sure they have their place. Keeping the food chain intact or something. Nature and the circle of life or whatever.
I know we’re not supposed to kill bees. Bees must be important. Maybe I can be a bee.
Bees must think they are hot shit — everyone afraid to swat at them. Just collecting booty and bringing it to the queen. Bees must feel untouchable now. Big shots.
If I could fly away, I would. Buzzing off to the nearest garden. Looking for sweet nectar. Moving on to the next one.
But sometimes the only place I can disappear to is sleep. In the peace of slumber I finally rest my mind — unless there are nightmares. Lately, those eight hours are all that keep me from breaking down.
I wasn’t always like this. Sleep used to be something I had to do, but didn’t wait for. I wasn’t looking to sleep to take me away from the problems of the day. I slept to recharge for life.
