"To Sleep, Perchance To Dream"

Sleep is my best friend, my enemy and my sweetest escape.

When my father died, there is a lot I have blocked out, a lot I have forgotten, except the sleep. All I could do was sleep. 

While I was still in England after his funeral and before my return to the US I remember just sleeping and waiting for it all to be over.  When I returned to the US, mum came back with me and I went back to work within a week-not because I had to, but because I wanted to, and I wanted distraction. I would sleep all day until an hour before work, shower and leave. I worked in a small Mexican restaurant in West Hollywood. I had a lot of regulars that would come in nightly and when I first went back to work the boss was great and just held my hand and made some jokes. A lot of the regulars knew and one man, called John, simply held out his arms and said, "a long trip-right?" and I was so grateful for that gentle welcome. When a world of people have no idea what to say stranger's words can mean everything.

The sleep is beckoning me again. I could sleep all night and create an artificial night for myself during the day. The stress, the pain, the fact my heart is breaking makes sleep seem such a luxurious escape.