Aside

It's another of those nights where my active mind cannot be stilled. Thoughts which should have long been banished into the recesses of my memory, still float to the surface. Why they cannot stay hidden beneath, I am not completely sure. Am I in denial or am I still in recovery? Am I not done yet? The intensity of these memories is hard to suppress, so I get out of bed and succumb to the last tablet I have been saving. It is supposed to rest my mind and help me sleep. Put these thoughts back where they belong - in the deep, deep warehouse of my mind. In cold storage, not to be taken out easily. Maybe once in a very long time, and preferably such a long time, that I will forget that they are still there. And when I remember, it will be a surprise.

I take the tablet. I wait. My eyelids grow heavier. But my mind? Do I still remember? Can I stop the mental dialogue in my head? Can I bury the memories? I need to. I want to.