Nocturnal contemplation

I think a lot at night. I have trouble turning my brain off. There are times I'll fall asleep quickly, but I wake a lot during the night and when I do, I start to think. And think. And think. Unfortunately, my drugs only switch ON my brain during the day. They don't switch it OFF during the night.

Lying there in the dark, with my eyes wide open, my thoughts are simultaneously precise with clarity and clouded with uncertainty. I find all the things I want to say. I find the right ways to say it all. I find the strength to say the things I'm scared to face (concerning either myself or others). The darkness gives me the capacity to deal with the consequences of my thoughts and the assurance that I'll handle them just fine. But the darkness also makes me wonder if I'm just so tough and self assured, because I can't see me, nobody else can see me, and I can be whomever I want to be.

Then the alarm goes off and the sun starts to come through the blinds, and I'm reminded that I'm just as insecure and lacking self assurance as I was the day before. But it doesn't matter. Part of me is who I am when I'm doing my thinking at night. I remember that there is part of me who can and does deal with the uncertanties and that part of me knows I'll be ok, whatever happens.

Sometimes though, I'd like the darkness to stay a little longer. The person I am when I'm thinking at night handles life a whole lot better than the one who sees things in the cold light of day.