Shley Hulk Smash

So much anger.

I just want a good night’s sleep. Just a refreshing period where my brain can relax and learn things, and my body can heal itself. I want to wake up calmly and ready to take on the days. I want to be able to go through life not worried about when I can take caffeine and b vitamins to keep myself upright.

But can I get that? No. I’m not allowed. It’s difficult to know why my nightmares are so bad. It’s not difficult to know what wakes me up 374,829,478,383 times during the night and what keeps me up in the early mornings, however.

There’s always stomping. Things falling. Usually people yelling. Doors slamming. Mystery thuds.

Mixed with my high-pitched anxious thoughts and an added dose of vivid nightmares, I can’t win.

You can say please only so many hundreds of times before you realize they must not care. They must not care they’re seriously contributing to the vicious circle that is anxiety, depression, insomnia, sleeplessness, anxiety, depression, debilitating depression, and a zombie-like affect.

I am so mad. So mad I get that ugly choking mad sob thing.

I just want to fucking sleep.

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