Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray to the Lord for my soul to keep.
if I should die before I wake,
I pray to the Lord, my soul, he'll take.
My vivid imagination even at that age made it far worse, turning little noises--creaks and groans--into hideous things. Not even the hallway light that I insisted be left on gave me much comfort.
What did however was what I called my "sleeping buddy", an imaginary friend that held me tight at night, my protector. I never told anyone about him, being the second-to-youngest child of four daughters, I knew I'd be mocked.He wasn't an imaginary friend like the others say they have. I only needed him at night so that's when he was there. He aged with me so the comfort and protection feelings were always there.
Then puberty "hit" and I got depressed. The darkness became sort of a sanctuary.. where I didn't have to be anything and nothing was required of me but I still needed classical music to get me to sleep every night. It was a very difficult time for me but somehow I got through it.
I think it ended one night that it rained and I asked God for a clean slate. I was sorry for all that I had done and wanted to start over. That night I dreamt about an indian riding a horse making the black sky white and in the morning I felt refreshed.
Now when night comes, I feel that incredible pain of loneliness and yearning that I can't satisfy. I avoid going to sleep to avoid the nightmares until I fall asleep from exhaustion.
Such hollowness I feel...