Counting Sheep Doesn't Work.

It's nearly four in the morning. I can't sleep. Something inside of me feels uneasy and unsettled. I don't know what it is, but it's making me sick to my stomach. I want to cry, but I don't have a reason to do so. I've never had insomnia this bad.

I met a man tonight that said he thinks about putting a gun in his mouth everyday. I can't stop thinking about that. The whole conversation/situation makes me sad. How do you take that kind of pain away from someone? I saw so much torture in his eyes when he told me, and all I did was tell him not to say such a horrible thing. Now, I wish I had said ten thousand different things to him. More guilt.

Guilt. That is why I am awake tonight. It all makes perfect sense. I hate myself because of the guilt I carry. I feel guilty for a hundred different things. I feel guilty that I hurt people I love (I'm sorry, Mom). I feel guilty that I waste so much time. I feel guilty that I am not a better human being. But most of all, I feel guilty that I let so many people down.

I need to be up at eight. I'd better try to go to bed again. Thanks for text messaging me, Dan. I'm glad you were awake, too.