Past my bedtime

I have a panic attack at six am. I’ve been up for hours and I cannot find answers to my problems. It’s way past my bedtime.

Every day the same through the hours. Watching time slowly slips away, into a new day. Over tired, wired. I no longer care and collapse into a ball sobbing; I begin to hate my life.

A tight migraine pain in my head to signify the time lost in my bed to counting sheep, but still no sleep. My defeat. It’s past way my bedtime.

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