Are You Calling Me Carly?

Midnight.

My own witching hour. Where everything I am afraid of, everything I’ve been trying to get my mind off, just creep in—all at the same time. Loneliness, Denial, Depression, Regret—those fucking demons circling me. I could practically see them and it scares the shit out of me. It’s the haunting period.

This haunting period of mine doesn’t come everyday, but it comes whenever I least want it to. It’s when I start pondering on things I tried so hard to pack up and store somewhere far. And without permission, they get back to you like you have built in magnets. I guess that’s just how excess baggage work. 

I cannot say that these attacks are unexpected. To be honest I can almost always foresee them. The thing is, they are inevitable, they just happen no matter what. And of course, since they come past midnight, they usually happen when I couldnt put myself to sleep. 

Like right now.

I blame it for the afternoon siesta I had earlier today. Now I cannot sleep, even if I so badly want to. I shouldn’t have took that nap. But what should a single young woman do on a Sunday afternoon? I do not have that many options, you know.

I also blame my tendency to overthink and be overdramatic. I am not proud of this fact, but I never denied it. Despite being almost the cause of this, being overdramatic also helped me get through these episodes. Because being overdramatic tires me and would later put me to sleep. Quite an uncomfortable way to snooze, but hey, I am not being choosy.

As long as I get over it.