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If this isn't the correct subforum, I kindly ask the moderators to move my thread to the appropriate section.
What is your interpretation of the phrase "the dead of night"? What significance do these specific words hold for you?
An interesting survey. I have completed it. I also provided my email address in case they conduct follow-up research.
I am seeing the exact same error message:
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When will this be resolved?
The days and weeks pass... And I feel myself sinking deeper, as if I am falling into a dark abyss... I am 23 years old, I have my degree in psychology, I am working, and I am in a relationship with a wonderful person whom I adore. I know some of you will say—or think—that I have everything and that there is absolutely no reason for these nightmares to haunt my thoughts. I know all of that. Oh, I know it well. But... day after day... night after night... I am simply sinking... I cannot escape the thought that everything in my life is slowly but surely losing its meaning... I haven't slept properly in nights... And the little sleep I am granted is seasoned with heavy doses of nightmares... Terrifying nightmares that instill even more fear of tomorrow into my soul. I am afraid... I am afraid of losing everything... I lack the will for things I used to do with such joy... When I get home from work... Around 5:00 PM... I return to my corner of solitude (I live alone) and then... That is when it begins... Solitude and nightmares knock on my door again... Like faithful guests... And I... I let them in, as always. Into my apartment... Into my soul... Loneliness keeps me company during these long winter evenings... My boyfriend, whom I love so dearly, tries everything to cheer me up and lift my spirits... But it feels as though none of it reaches me... I don't want to lose him... He is my entire world... I cannot describe how much love resides within me... For him. Often at night... while struggling with insomnia... I write... I love to write... And I have been writing for years... Sometimes I feel... As if this pen, which gives life to my words, is the only thing that truly understands and empathizes with me and my feelings.
Please write... how could I help myself?... Because I am aware of everything—truly aware of what is happening—but I simply do not know how to help myself... And I feel that help is needed...
Thank you...
Here is a poem I wrote tonight... During another sleepless night...
...tell me...
...where you hid me...
Tell me... where you hid me...
Where did you hide me... I cannot find myself anywhere...
I am lost... in these hallways...
Wandering through them... searching for you... searching... for myself...
Tell me... where you hid me...
Where did you hide me... so perfectly... that I am only present when I am with you...
That I breathe... only when I hear you...
That I live... only when I feel you...
Tell me... where you hid me...
Where did you hide me... when, without you, I can no longer sense the scent of spring...
I no longer hear or recognize... even my own name...
And they call me... but... I do not hear them... I... I do not want to hear them...
Tell me... where you hid me...
Where did you hide me... so deeply... that I only feel myself when I am with you...
Tell me... because I cannot... take another step...
Because... from these empty breaths... I feel dizzy...
Tell me... where you hid me...
Where did you hide me... when it feels so warm... against your chest...
And only there... do I smell... the spring...
Only there... against your chest... do I hear... my name...
P.S.
I do not usually have the habit of sharing my private thoughts (my poems) so publicly.
I wrote this only so that, perhaps, if you are able and willing, you might better understand what is troubling me and the turmoil within my mind.