Echoes of a Muted Child
Back in high school, a good friend of mine shared how his father had a nightly ritual of taking Ambien mixed with alcohol to sleep. One night, when he ran out, he tore the whole house down in a frantic search for more and called anyone he thought might have some. His dependency on the drug became painfully evident when he ultimately resorted to obtaining some from a suspicious doctor for an exorbitant sum. I thought about how terrifying it must be to need something so desperately just to find rest. I imagined that if I were in his position, I would likely stockpile several bottles as a precaution, ensuring I would never run out or have a backup in case I misplaced one. At that moment, I resolved to seek better ways to improve my sleep—perhaps journaling could help clear my mind and prepare me for rest, I thought. ...