It's always worse at night

I woke in the middle of the night from a deep sleep - my body heavy and my mind racing.

There's not enough time! 

Surrounded by silence that can only exist in the dark, I felt and overwhelming sense of defeat. There's not enough time and I can't change the time already wasted. 

I sat up and looked at my dog at the end of the bed. So used to my abrupt wakings, he hardly stirred. 

How quickly we take for granted, the minutes that turn to hours and the hours that turn to days. And most of those days, we hardly remember. Too soon they become insignificant - gone and forgotten.  

I could feel the panic rise in my body. I started to cry. It's all worthless.

For moments I lay in bed, crying for the emptiness that is my life. Until inevitably, a deep sleep carried me to safety from myself. 

In the morning I wake up, my mind still heavy with sleep, I wonder; was it just a dream? 

It wasn't. It's always worse at night. 

And so I go on with my day. My late night adventure, nothing but a faint memory in time. Time that I continue to waste.