Nighttime Visitors

It's almost midnight. I will have 29 days sober.. and I feel every second of it. Today I got so stressed that I felt a bruising sensation in my right arm as if the needle went too deep. I had to remind myself - it's been 28 days. It's almost time for my nighttime visitors. My body's shaking just thinking about it. Brief images of violence and force swarm through my mind. It's so rapid that I couldn't tell you any names or even what I was wearing. I get so tired of this shit. Every night when I feel the warmth of my covers and when darkness helps my eyelids shut - I'm reminded of everything. It never skips a night.. not. one. night. Memories of all the drinks I chugged like it was my only salvation and needles pressing against my skin soon follow. The very shit I tried to escape comes with a vengeance when I am alone and it's too late to call anyone. It hits when there's no more distractions and all my homework is done; when there's nothing left to do but lay there debilitated. I just have to wait for it to pass and wish for a night with no dreams. This is my fifth, no sixth, I don't know - let's just sixth attempt at getting sober. Each time brings a new gift with it - this one is nightmares. I'm not used to dreaming. You don't dream when you've been up for four days. And you don't dream when you're passed out from drinking. In case anyone was wondering. But last night, I dreamt. I dreamt of my mother. I turned around to see a gun pressed to her head. Someone I don't know shot her but flashes of me pulling the trigger soon took his place. I tried to wake everyone up in the unfamiliar house to tell them she died but none of them cared to wake up. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to make the funeral arrangements. I waited for someone to come help me but no one showed up. My sister went back to sleep. I woke up with a deep gasp and a sore feeling in my throat as if I had been screaming. It was the familiar feeling of having hands placed tightly around my neck. I listened quietly for my sister to make sure I was safe. I was. I went back to sleep hesitating another dream. This time my ex was the theme - the one I refuse to think about. He was holding up a picture of him and his new girlfriend and screaming in my face. I couldn't make out what he said. I tried to move away but his body kept forcing itself towards me like a strong magnet. I got away, ran and woke up. Tonight, I don't want to sleep.