Sleep doesn't come

I haven't slept very well lately. Night after night I keep tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable under the bed sheets or switch off my brain.  I'm not thinking of anything in particular, I'm just restless.  To be completely honest, I think that for the first time in years... I'm feeling frightened.  I don't know where this could have come from: I thought it had do to with Will's absence but now that he's home and I'm still scared, I really can't explain.

He goes to sleep before me while I remain on the couch, watching something on TV or reading, with as many lights on as possible, in an effort to preoccupy my mind and keep scary thoughts at bay in the fringes of darkness.  When my eyes start to close and my neck droops, I admit defeat and prepare for bedtime.  I stand and look all around me, surveying the perimeter of the room - front door locked? Check.  Windows shut? Check. Then I make my way down the hall and peer into the office: back door locked? Check.  I don't dare go up to any of them - I prefer to stay safe and close to the inside of the house and to Will, just in case.  Even as I process this thought, I am aware of its frivolity - since I have a very protective poodle at my ankles who would surely not be this relaxed or leading the way drowsily to sleep before me if something in the slightest was amiss.

What am I afraid of?  I wonder as I switch off the hallway light and jet for the bedroom as quick as I can, as if the darkness will somehow scold me if it grazes me in the slightest.  What imaginary creatures are waiting to envelop me in its cover?  I question as I make my way for the bathroom, turn on the light and follow the nightly ritual of prepping for bed.  I hear Will, or maybe one of the dogs, stifle a snore. Why am I the only one in this house that's worried?

Once my teeth are brushed, my skin is clean and moisturized, I take my time putting on my pj's, since after this - the light gets turned off. My heart starts to pound like mad in my chest as I extend my hand to the switch on the bathroom wall.  I hold my breath, preparing to run for the bed and straight into Will's arms.  I flick it but it doesn't go dark!  To my relief, the lamp on my nightstand still glows with a warm yellow light; I am safe.

I inhale deeply and make my way to my side of the bed; Dorothy is snug in her pen, twitching peacefully in her dream state and Baxter is already at the foot of the bed, flat on his back with legs spread in the air, not bothered my anything at all.  I smile as I look upon this scene of tranquility and my courage rises when my gaze stops on Will's face: mouth open, eyelids quivering.

I lay down and pull the blanket around me, reach for the lamp but stop short.  I'm wide awake again, I'll just leave it on until I feel sleepy I think and reach for my phone instead.  I play a few games until once more my eyelids feel heavy.  I reach for the lamp once more and this time I do switch it off but I'm electrocuted with fear as the monesters immediately descend on me!  They quickly creep out of the ceiling, down the walls, out from under the bed, in through the windows... all towards me.  I gasp and turn the lamp back on, damning myself over and over for even allowing these thoughts this far.

I decide to try to sleep with the lamp on but it's no good.  As soon as my eyes close - the monsters are back.  I nudge Will, tell him I'm scared.  He grumbles about the light hurting his eyes and tells me to turn it off, I repeat that I'm scared and he opens his eyes beneath furrowed eyebrows, extends his arms and tells me to come here.  We snuggle for a minute and I begin to relax.  I am safe.  We are all safe.  Will's here.  Baxter hasn't budged.  All is well in my world.  I try to force pleasant thoughts into my head and hope they will carry on into a dream - then Will reaches past me and turns off the light.  My eyes jump open and the monsters are back - creeping, creeping.

I gently unwrap myself from his arms, trying not to wake him and run for the hallway where the light is thrown instantly on.   I turn Dawson's Creek on Netflix and lay down on the couch, wrapping myself in the fleece blanket instead.  Baxter comes trudging reluctantly down the hall then with much annoyance and a deep, loud sigh leaps onto the couch beside me; no doubt hoping this is the end of my shifting so he can settle for the night and sleep through the rest of the night unbothered.  He's been hoping this for the past three nights.