Why is the night so scary?
The day is manageable, but as darkness settles, everything changes.
I feel panicky, scared, alone. I can feel my heart vibrating in my chest. My breathing is uneven. My brain is racing. My eyes visualise the worst. I’m convinced tonight will be the night that my starving body finally gives up. I’m scared to let myself sleep. I hold on, desparate to stay awake. If I sleep, maybe I won’t wake up.
I reach under my pillow and nibble on one of the dried apricots I keep there. Otherwise I am convinced that tonight will be the night that my blood glucose drops and I slip into a coma. I don’t know if this is likely, but in the darkness, in my head, it is almost certain.
“Tomorrow,” I promise myself, “tomorrow, I will eat more.”
“Remember how terrifying this is and eat more tomorrow,” I think.
I drift off, and jolt awake.
And now it is tomorrow. And I feel ok. Do I keep my promise? Of course I don’t.