Four days. Oh yes I have slept. I shall tell you about this 'sleep'.
You taste metal in the back of your mouth. You start to sweat so badly you would think you were doing something fun. You have an awful dream about a bird.
Then one of your limbs twitches without your permission and wakes you. After less than an hour. And it’s nearly dead so you have to shake it with your other arm to get it to work again.
And then you can’t sleep.
And every part of you feels...just…not…right.
And your mouth feels funny. And your eyes feel like they belong to someone else.
And you just want to sleep. Because you are cross. And it has been three – or is it four (you can’t think properly when you are this tired) – nights now and you don’t want to make anyone unhappy so just some sleep will do but you can’t because there is always Noise and it’s no-ones fault but you just need some sleep.
Just some peace.
And you try and find a quite corner of the house during the day. And try and sleep.
But it is day. And the weekend. Children jump on you. You cannot be cross.
Adults need access to the bedroom you are in just as you are drifting, and if they don’t get it now they never will. There is no point in getting cross.
You give up, and resign yourself to the fact that not only do you have trouble formulating thoughts, but actual vocal expression is something of a chore. Whilst you ignore the weird things that flash in the corner of your eyes that are not actually there.
And try not to flinch when they reach for you. In my experience, they’ve got lots of legs but it doesn’t matter because as soon as you look at them they’re gone.