Comfortably Sinking

The alarm jingles – 8:45 a.m. I lay myself back to rest for another ten minutes until the next alarm calls, then again for another five. The final alarm beeps, 9 a.m., and I groan as I reach to turn it off. For a moment, I lay in silence with myself as the outside world giggles and chatters, works and honks. ‘I can lay in a bit more‘, I think to myself as my consciousness rests once more.

A sudden awakening – a call, a text, my mother’s voice calling to me, a sudden end to my dream – my slumber has left me and I am unready to face the day, alone.

There’s things to do, I know this. ‘Just another game, then I’ll get breakfast‘; ‘it’s too late for breakfast now – I’ll just wait until I get hungry for lunch‘; ‘I can call the doctors tomorrow, one more day off my meds is fine.‘ I tell myself these things over and over, as my boredom increases and I lay for longer. I sink into the mattress, deeper as the hours pass, a dip carving itself just for me. This hole is comfortable for now.

The alarm calls, 8:45 a.m. ‘I have no reason to wake yet,’ I tell myself as I reach for my phone and turn all my alarms off for the day. Something in me reminds me of all the things I put off from yesterday and my heart pounds; time for another hypnosis video to calm these palpitations of anxiety.

The dreams are sweet, and odd, and poisonous, and demanding; demanding to be felt, tricking me into a lull of make-believe. Eventually, the story ends once more, and I open my eyes to find myself being held by my bed, again. I check the time – 1:45 p.m.

The reminders go off in my brain every so often, almost as though they set themselves for specific times; “call the doctors”, “tidy your room”, “cook for the family”, “write your poems”, “make your bed”. Bed? This object is no longer my comfortable nightly home, but a station in which I wait for my responsible self to collect the current me. In the meantime, I distract myself with games, and Netflix, , and social media, and eating continuous snacks, and pulling the zip on my onesie up and down and up and down. It is my work table, my dining area, my sex couch and my bed; above all, it is my home.

I look down at the bed sheets, blue like the ocean. I lay upon them and let the waves carry me away to the next hour. Finally, the ocean has swallowed me.

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