January 8 -- "It's what I do in the middle of the night."

I avoid the hour at which I must sleep practically every night. I know what will come with the closing of my eyes, and it is an inevitability I would prefer to miss.

When there's nothing left to occupy my mind, I'm forced to think.
I despise it. I think about those I have lost along the way. I remember mistakes I've made, people who used me (and I let them).
I think about loneliness and how I wish it would somehow go away.
Mostly, though, I ponder the "what-if's".
What if I never find someone who loves me?
What if something happens so I can't get my degree?
What if all my plans and goals fall apart?

That's when it gets worse...
My habit of writing scripts in my head becomes an absolute horror.
I picture my grandfather having a heart attack.
My daddy in a car crash.
My mom shot by a robber in some store.
The most terrifying ones are of my baby brother. It is my ultimate fear, that something will happen to him, especially while I'm so far away.
I've spent more than an hour crying over an image in my mind of something happening to him. I would never be able to handle it.

I wish there was a way to shut off my brain along with the bedroom light.

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