when I can’t sleep, I have three go-to fantasies;
The first is if I am panicking. I imagine two hands slipping into my skull, like a shadow through the skin and bone. The cool palms cup my brain and cradle my thoughts. It helps me to realise that all of my thoughts, my worries, my memories, trauma; it all lives in this squishy home, no bigger than half a loaf of bread.
The second is if I am bored. I imagine taking a friend by the hand to the middle of a forest. Telling them I have kept a secret from them, and that I will show them if they promise not to tell. Watching their eyes widen and their mouth open as I float up to the leaves, grinning down at my feet, hanging in the air.
The last isn’t too healthy. I delve into my guilty pleasure - the one that damages me. I’ll tell my therapist about it when I see her next week. But I like to line up in the school canteen. I shuffle forward in my black shoes, thinking about the science practical. I get to the front and take a tray, a handful of cutlery and an orange carton from the fridge. I ask for pasta and beans. I pay at the counter, pick up my tray and walk towards a handful of friends I spot in the hall.
Thinking about school doesn’t help me sleep because it is logical, or exciting. I guess it helps because it’s familiar. (U lot at school are going to be like wtf lamo school is horrid - but it’s a comfortable place for me. I’m stuck in the past! It’s a problem!)