Another day. Another day of illuminating the world with my joyous smile as the canaries sing. I wake up, brush my teeth, make my bed, drink my coffee, and head off to start my day. It’s amazing being the perfect girl. The most dazzling outfits, designer bags, brand new shoes, and not a hair out of place. I walk throughout life with grace, Intelligence, hard work, and beauty. No assignment goes undone and no person remains unsatisfied. I’m perfect. I’m always perfect. I go home and close the door and it all comes crumbling down. The pain. I can finally fix the pain. The pain reliever I take in the mornings always wears off no matter how much I take. My body is so used to it that it seems to have little effect. I can finally lay in bed. Bed. I can never go to bed. I lay for hours and hours till the sun comes up. The canaries, they’re up again. It's time for it to start again. I haven’t slept in days. When I come home no matter how tired I am I can’t fall asleep. Melatonin, Zzquil, Max Strength Sleep Aids, Benadryl, Ambien. I could overdose on the idea of the relief I so desperately seek as my eyes stay wide awake. As the days go on it gets worse. The torment that plagues me only intensifies. The shadows in my corner began to have a cotillion, the voices no longer whisper, they scream, and the horrors of my childhood emerged from under my bed. It dies down when the sun comes up, there goes the canaries. I wake up to my head pounding. Looks like my body is slowly shutting down again. I mix my cocktail of pain meds with all the sleeping pills from the night before. Every day the lack of sleep is like a hit of Adderall, the perfect combination for perfection and productivity. But every day it got worse and worse and worse until tonight came to a-head. I wanted to try a stronger sleep aid combination hoping it would help. The terrors in my room didn’t bother me tonight as I slowly drifted out of consciousness. Instead, they began to rip me apart. I wasn’t attentive enough to keep them at bay like normal. Just like that the very fiber of my being began to unravel. My psyche began to come crumbling down. Who I was. Who I represented. They ripped it all away. My future, everything I wanted to be, it was all coming down. Coming down? I wasn’t thinking that. Those were the words I heard as I opened my eyes. As I looked around the illuminating white room I finally couldn’t see the shadows anymore. I was free. It was just a doctor telling me my symptoms were finally coming down and to lay off the sleep meds. Those gazing into my observation room looked on in horror as I sat in the corner of my empty room. My brain, so gone to mush that nobody could believe it. The person they admired and relied on. The “perfect girl” was coming down.
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