They circle, moving in and out. They look like smoke, move like smoke, but they are deceiving. The darkness is heavy and their weight is killing me. Snaking through my concsiousness, they expand and contract, taking up every available space in my brain. I am in a catch 22. I want to sleep – to let them take over – but I have responsibilities. It is those responsibilities, though, that make the Shadows stronger. They fill my waking moments and my dreams. Sleep is not restful. My dreams, once enlightening, are saturated with darkness, drowning, suffocation, aloneness. I hear those that love me. I hear their worry, their concern, but it just adds to the Shadows’ power. They feed off of my worry, my concern, my need to be everything to everyone. I need someplace small, someplace dark where I can’t feel them or see them, but I can’t hide. I don’t know what to do.