I'm used to the feeling of knotted strings waking me up.
I guess I move too much when I sleep.
I guess they just get tangled.
Nighttime is the only time I can move.
That's when the puppet master is sleeping.
The strings are really tight.
They always bruise me.
Sometimes I can ignore the pain.
Sometimes I think I'm ok.
But it's only sometimes.
The strings tighten again after a while.
The puppet master comes back after a while.
That's the thing about anxiety:
it creeps up on you.
And it never leaves.