No More Beleaguered Nights

The anxiety at night, when being ill is the most stressful, seems to have perhaps, finally begun to taper off, bringing a cautious optimism.

The worst part of being ill are the nights. They are silent, and whereas during the day there is at least some noise from the apartments above and below me, in those late hours it is as if I’m the only person in the world. This new world has made it so blaring televisions or music, once tolerated with gritted teeth, is now welcome, any sound is welcome. I wait, hopefully, for the dog upstairs to awaken and run to his water bowl, his long nails tapping on the bare tile, bringing a relief that abates bit by bit until once more, I wait for the tapping of a living being to reassure me.

There’s something about the night time that makes things all the harder, all the more terrifying. I have been fearful of going to sleep lest I not wake up, and have actually somehow trained myself if I doze off to wake up again as soon as it happens. I keep Netflix playing pretty much all night, but couldn’t really tell you much about anything I have watched as my mind is just not alert enough especially by the time night rolls around to really process anything.

I’m not even sure of the titles of what I’ve played these past two weeks. I often watch the same clips of Whose Line is It Anyways or Steve Harvey on Family Feud. It says a lot about my state of mind that I can watch these same clips over and over again sometimes several times during the same night without getting sick of them. I have also fallen in love with latin dance, watching competition after competition.

The profound relief I feel when I first hear the birds begin to chirp, heralding the coming day, and then when I notice the sky beginning to lighten is amazing. It is then I know I’ve survived another night, and I can let myself sleep for a few hours. It’s like a different world, one being frightening and foreboding, and the other one being comforting and filled with reassurance.

Last night, for the first time in over two weeks, I didn’t have quite the same sense of fear as I had. This was unusual as I’d had a rough day with my fever spiking over 102 and had hardly left my bed, my mind being foggy and confused. The day had been grey and cold and so it seemed to take much longer for the sky to begin to grow lighter, and even when it did it was still overcast. The reports of the confirmed cases of the virus in Illinois had hit 5000 with 100 deaths by mid day and they were predicting that things would be getting much, much worse.

But somewhere around 1:30 am I realized that the sense of extreme anxiety I had felt during every one of the past 15 nights wasn’t quite so sharp. It was still there, but for the first time I had a sense of optimism. I still didn’t sleep, but I think at least a part of this was that my body had gotten into a habit. Though I didn’t fall asleep until after 7:00 am, I managed to sleep until almost noon. I can’t even remember when I’d last gotten this much sleep.

Although I’m still having trouble thinking clearly enough to write much today, I did manage to compose the following poem. It speaks of the freeing of the spirit from a place where it was trapped and tormented. I think it’s a reaction to not only last night and being ill, but of recent losses as well.

No More Beleaguered Nights

In the shadowed hours of the night A gale of laughter chases fright It bubbles, dances in delight Escaping from it’s cell

It lay so long beneath hot coals As earth and air buckled, rolled Denied allowance to be whole Could not it’s panic quell

Then lone star shone, then two, then three Despite a lack of levity A deep breath in, it pushed to free It’s song, hope to impel

And now around, around it flies Alights when bedside candle dies Wipes weary pain from tired eyes Says, Here I’ll always dwell

Natalie Frank has had her poetry featured in several anthologies including Untimely Frost. Her fiction has been published in Haunted Waters Press, Weirdbook Magazine, Siren’s Call Publications, Lycan Valley Press and Zero Fiction among others. Her collection of poetry, Disguised I Breathe, In Love I Hold, can be found on Amazon under her pen name, Taye Carrol.

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