18

GENEVIEVE

have not slept all night.

And that is sort of a problem because I become jittery and a bit neurotic when I do not sleep.

Insomnia and I aren’t strangers, especially since I did not manage to completely desensitize myself to that word. It might be written in a red Sharpie because it is one of the words I struggle with the most.

Along with death.

I think I also need to add moving on to the red list because I can not do that. I am supposed to, I have to, but my mind is stuck in a different type of loop that I can not escape.

So I spent the night in the closet. I wanted to stay with Dad, but Dan said in that stern voice of his to “go home and get some sleep” because tomorrow—today—is a big day. He did not voice the last part, but I figured it out on my own.

However, I couldn’t just get some sleep. Not even after I blasted Twenty One Pilots on my headphones and exhausted myself by dancing. Not even when I swallowed like three sleeping pills. Or maybe it was five. I lost count som