6:10am

I've come to the conclusion that my brain and my body are still scared of bed time.

I haven't gone to sleep yet. I got home before midnight and posted Vegas pictures, chatted with dad, did my nails, and watched the entire first season of Ringer. Even now, I'm forcing myself to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. It's not the sleep I'm particularly scared of though, because lord knows I'm a superb napper. It's bed time, at night time.

I used to have the worst attacks in the middle of the night, waking me up to spend the rest of the night on the bathroom floor, or looking the same episode of Greys. I don't know why, but everything feels worse at night. Is that just me? Colds get stuffier, flues get more nauseous, period pains get stronger. And panic attacks get scarier. Well, they used to. Knock on wood, I haven't actually endured a nocturnal attack in..a long ass time, come to think of it. And yet, when it gets dark, and time comes to go to sleep alone, my brain figures, 'Why risk it?'

I know it has a lot to do with the 'alone' part. I go to sleep much easier when someone is in the same bed. I just feel safer. I live at home still, and I know that my dad is a mere 5 steps away, but that can seem SO much further then the very next pillow. During my most recent attacks, I wouldn't even wake my boyfriend up for help, when it was happening. Luckily, he's a very deep sleeper! But I felt safer, trying to catch my breath, if he was sleeping next to me.

Again, I'm fine taking a nap alone, I almost sometimes prefer it, so I can really sprawl! But at 11:30, when my best friend is driving me back home, my chest gets a little tighter, and a little sad, knowing that I'll be sleeping alone tonight.

Why does night time make things worse? Night time is romantic! Night time is stars! But there is something about the sun getting ready to come back up, and the promise of everyone else waking up again soon, that makes it easier to finally get 'a good nights rest'.