Dear Diary

I do keep a diary of sorts. It’s not the type that you read but it’s still something I only let my therapist see. On rare occassion, I’ll let someone special take a peak.

Nightmares wake me most nights. I don’t think I’ve slept straight through a night ever. At least not in any amount of time I can remember. I go to bed the same hour ever night and it’s like clockwork I’m awake at 3 AM sweating, breathing hard and my heart thumping in my chest. As part of my therapy, Margo had me start drawing out the images I could remember.

I still have the old sketches stored away in some locker of my inner demons – of the red eyes and tentacles. The early images are smeared after years of sitting in their notebooks, but the drawings are clear. I got better at drawing because I was drawing every morning when I woke up to the nightmares.

The images aren’t always the same, and now I sketch whatever comes to mind and not just about my nightmares. It’s how I process what’s on my mind before I talk with Margo on Mondays.

I’ve recently started sketching in colored pencil, the difference in definition is amazing. It’s too bad I can’t just draw the day away to relieve my mind of my fears.

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