PILLOWTALKS: AN INSOMNIAC'S STORY

      Natalie Grant was barely fifteen when she lost her dad. It was a dusty Tuesday evening when she got back from school to see her dad sprawled on the floor fighting for life. Her scream almost brought down the building and soon neighbors and officers were all over the place. They were supposed to have a dinner to plan their parents marriage anniversary. Her older brother Anthony Grant Jr. tried to keep his cool while seeing his sister fall apart seeing as she could barely hold herself together. He could see the light in her eyes slowly ebb out. He was now saddled with the responsibility of keeping the family together as he was the new man of the house. It was all too much to take in . He needed a breather. He quickly arranged for the twins Ruth and Rebecca to be sent over immediately to a friend's house. Natalie's mother, Emily held her softly while comforting her as she gave her statement to the officers being the first person at the scene. How quickly the tables turned because soon they were planning a funeral instead of a party and accepting condolences instead of congratulations. The investigators said it was a robbery gone wrong. Soon the nightmares started with panic attacks and insomnia flanking it. It was something she had not experienced before. A new battle to fight. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wasn't sure of the girl standing in front of the mirror. The girl in front of the mirror was not the bubbly personality she once knew. Soon she began to pay homage to a doctor and a therapist. Her therapist encouraged her to write it all down in the diary her dad got her. 

July 8th, 2015

Dear Pillow,

   It's been a dusty day. Momma thinks the therapist is right, I should write down everything and get it off my chest. My nightmares make it difficult for me to sleep, the sleeping pills ain't working anymore. I'll tell momma to take me to the doctor to see if she can step up the dose. I can't keep sleeping in school. Ms. Williams might send me out next time or give me some form of punishment. The thought of it scares me. Oh pillow, what should I do? In my dream today, a man was pointing a gun at me. Dad stepped in, got shot and died. I'm at fault though. If only I didn't insist on walking back from school. If only I let him pick me up. He'll still be alive. We would've only lost a few things but not him. His life is worth more than all that was stolen. Really sucks not having him around.

July 9th, 2015

Dear Pillow, 

The cold sweats ain't funny anymore. I feel like I've been running a marathon in my dream. Dad and I were running from the robbers when he slipped and broke his ankle. I couldn't hold him up because of his weight. He told me to go on. Never been so helpless, so helpless that I couldn't assist my dad in his greatest time of need. Panic attacks are growing on me. My bestie, Emilia says I need to tell my mom. At least I didn't sleep in any of Ms. Williams' class today. I slept in the rest though.

  July 10th, 2015

Dear Pillow,

  Shortness of breath and anxiety hit me again. I felt trapped in my own body. Aarrgghh!!!, that helpless feeling again. It seemed like my world's darkest moment. It's definitely time to take that trip to the doctor's. 

"Excuse me ma'am, are you Ms. Emily Grant ?" , The receptionist asked

"Yes" , mom replied

"Dr. Thomas is waiting for you"

Dr Alice Thomas is Emilia's mom

"Natalie, Em, come on right in", my best friends mom greeted warmly.

We settled into the session. I described my boring tale of panic attacks and sleep troubles to her. She tells mom I'll be fine and writes down the medications I'll take. It looks like Lorazepam made the top on my medication list. I really liked the happy days, you know, when I didn't pay homage to the doctor's office like some kind of tribute.

"Natalie, are you okay? " , Mom asks on the way to the therapist's office

"I'll be fine" , I reply

Happy by Pharell plays on the radio . I turn up the volume while my thoughts mull over me.

"We're here" , mom says

Dr. Irene Timothy was expecting us when we arrived. Mom waited outside for me. Something about "doctor- patient confidentiality". We talked about my journal entries, nightmares and insomnia. The session went on just fine. As we walked down to the car, I could see mom's eyebrows raise slantly in worry and I comforted her by saying I'm fine to which she replies I love you. I'm I fine? I don't know. I don't think I know what being okay or fine is anymore. What ever it feels like, I hope I feel it soon.

July 11th, 2015 

Dear Pillow, 

  Honestly, this battle against nightmares is a story I can't even tell you. Today, I felt like I was floating outside reality, it's like everything came to a stop. As usual, the helpless feeling paid me a visit. It was like being buried alive in a coffin of emotions, like a shrapnel was buried in my spine paralyzing me. The battle just started and I feel I've lost. I'm I really fighting a losing battle? I don't care though, I want out.

July 12th, 2015

Dear Pillow,

  Today makes it a week since Dad died. Hopefully I'll be fine and get through this all. I visited the cemetery today. Had a awkward dialogue I guess. 

"Hi dad. I know you can't talk so I'll do the talking. I feel exhausted. My meds are barely helping. I don't think that Aspirin will relieve my pains . I hate what I'm going through. I wish I could just make it all go away with a snap of my fingers. My siblings walk on eggshells around me. They think I'm fragile. Mom is the only one takes the bull by it's horns when she's talking to me. I survived a week without dad. The week went by so quickly. We all miss you. On your epitaph is written Anthony Grant, Husband, Father, Brother, Uncle, Friend and Fighter. You were a fighter and as your daughter I'll fight too. As a family we will fight too against the pain accompanied by death and loss. We will get through this. 

Talking to Dad was felt so good. I can hear the twins laughing. I smile at the sound of it. I can get through this. For the first time in a while, home felt good . It feels good to say that there is no place like home. I love you Dad.