Weak End

I doze off momentarily on the couch, I am warm, and finally in a daze. Soon after, the front door swings open loudly above my head, it's always the doorknob the startles me, each and every time. He exclaims, a bit drawn out, "Woah, I didn't know you were there, I just guessed", after we said hellos. He said work sucked, he is bored and lonely and wants to hang out. I'm unnerved by the thought, mostly upset being that I had attempted to get the sleep that I was so dearly close to just moments before. I told him that I was going to wake him up at 8am, and ask him to "talk and hang out", it being well past two. This bothers him, and was likely meant to. I could feel myself waking up more and more as we talk from the couch to the kitchen. He tells me to come to bed, I remember thinking that it was nice to hear, and I actually would do so if I believed he wanted me to. He's annoyed now, so I tell him I tried sleeping in the bed for a very long time, which is how and why I ended up on the couch. He says, louder than he would want to if he wasn't so drunk, something to the effect of wanting to help, telling me to sleep in the bed, "but whatever", he yells. I resented his slurry tone, but he did ask a second time, so I tell him that I am coming. We talk for a bit longer, his back to me always. I am still speaking as I hear him falling asleep. He begins to snore, as I avoid looking at the clock; it's always 4am, and I did not want to be certain of this. I crawl quietly back onto the couch. 

It takes a very long time, but I slept a little. Woke up early.

I'm not sure what day that was, or what morning I regretfully slipped in a comment about how embarassing his parking was from the night prior. Must have been saturday.

I recall not sleeping sunday, either, worrying all night, upset about having work the following morning. Monday I could not get to sleep, and didn't stay asleep well either. I had a very bittersweet, and jarring dream that taunted me all the next day. Tuesday did not go well. I took sleeping pills the rest of the week until tonight. I slept fine, really well I would even say. Sometimes I get home and it's hard to be alive, I tell myself to stay awake just long enough to get laundry done, shower, or paint my nails. Each day consists of morning/breakfast, work, chore, and then dedicating the rest of the evening to sleep preparation. Today my chore was getting gas. Some days I can't wait until seven (the time that I take sleeping pills) to take them, so I don't. Tuesday it was about six. Wednesday and thursday were better, so I could wait until closer to seven. Wednesday my chore to get done was laundry, thursday I knew that the repetition would dilute the affect; I took them and then went grocery shopping. I spent 103 dollar, and felt pretty terrible about it. I spent fifteen dollars on wine, it's called Rickshaw, and what I swallowed them with each night. Fridays I do not normally take sleeping pills, in case austin comes home straight from work, and because I do not have work in the morning. I wish that I had, tonight and most every night. Building up a tolerance is quite an unforutnate thing, though. 

I'm lying on the couch now, really wondering how much longer I could go on, like this. I have cried twice, this week.

(I guess it's not so much losing my mind as a loss of control. I can't tell you which is a worse way to go.)

take two sleeping aids

break into halves the time capsules

they go down just like red wine

shy my eyes and dream of when everything was fine