the c(O)ns(C)ious perio(D) of the nighttime

the c(O)n(C)ious perio(D) of the nighttime

Sophie Jonsson

If I don’t do this right something will happen. What I am doing and describing. K is the only one who knows about this. She suggested I write everything down so I can notice alll of the things that I am doing. Sort of like how really fit people keep records of everything they eat to say healthy. I need to stay healthy. I need to get healthy.

If someone hears me something willl happen.

I thought about handwriting this, but decided that would take too long. If I did that I would have to meticulously draw out every letter, making sure no lines were disconnected, and that everything was in a line. I do like the idea of controlling the size of what I say though. If it is small enough, maybe she will not be able to read it, or care enough to do it. I know she will though, at least she’s getting paid to. I’ll just make things small here. To share something is to risk losing it. And K was going to be reading it. I just have to make sure I lose the right thing.

Nighttime started with turning off the television. We had a little square television, only about 10x10 inches. It was so old, it crackled when you turned it on and off. I would try to leave it alone. But then the feeling happens. The feeling that something has to be done. If I leave the television with remnants of crackle, the crackle will explode. I quickly press my hand to the screen and let the static connect my hand to the surface. I run my finger around the outline four times, hitting every corner to make sure all of the crackle is gone. I put my hand in the center and then run my fingers around the edges all the way around four times every night. K says I should try three times. And then two. And then one. And then I won’t do it anymore. I think I just won’t turn on the television anymore.

I know I am irrational.

People think things on the television are relatable. Relatability makes everything more interesting and worthwhile. I do not know if this is interesting or worthwhile. I suppose the things I do are not interesting or worthwhile. I know this. So I shouldn’t do them. I want to be relatable.

I first noticed all of these things when I would play the piano and feel off balance. If I played a note with my right hand, my body would feel off balance. So I would play something with my left hand to even it out. I did not mind if my left hand did something and my right hand did not (I am left-handed), but giving the attention to my right hand made me feel as though someone had chained an anchor to the right side of me and I was heading toward the bottom of an ocean. But not everyone plays the piano (though I doubt many people could understand this at all). So here is a different example. I do the same thing with doorknobs (especially cold brass ones like the ones in my home at nighttime). I will only open them with my left or both hands. And if I can’t for some reason, something tells me to find something to match the feeling quick. Or the ball and chain will be clasped around me as the ocean surrounds.

I know I am irrational.

Most of the worries are for other people but this one is just for me. Does that sound selfish? Conceited? I hope not.

My walk to my room is next. I step exclusively in intervals of four. I can tell you that. I still cannot tell you why. If I do, something will happen. I hope that is okay. Usually it’s eighteen steps to get there, and then I take two steps in place before shutting the door. I do this during the day sometimes, but the nighttime walk is the one I always do. Because something might happen if I don’t.

I know I am irrational.

Steps are boring. I know this.You probably don’t want to hear about it. But K has to hear about it. Maybe I should just write this to her. No. Writing to anyone seems easier than to someone. Thinking about someone specific makes me worrisome about what they will think. They will probably want a clear-cut plot. But trying to advance the plot gets in the way of the portraying the life and the feelings as they are. If something is to anyone, anything can be said. Perhpas normally, steps are used in a plot based story, but they are not the story. Here they are the story. I hope that is okay.

I then walk around the outline of the room, making sure everything is in its place. If it is not, something would happen. If everything is as it should be, the conscious period of nighttime is over. I can sleep and believe I did everything to make things okay. I know K will say none of this controls anything. But it does to me.

I know I am being irrational.

I find that once things are repeated, they become less meaningful and genuine. I am aware that I have done that here, and that to you, I seemingly do that every night. But in my defense, I will say that there are differences between writing, speaking, thinking, and acting. I am referring to speaking in this case. If you say the same thing over and over the same way, there is no meaning to it anymore. Perhaps the thought you have is still important, but not what you are conveying. People do not understand that this is different. Every night in my head, it is as if everything I have done before has been erased and no longer works to fight against what can happen. Because no one heard it except me. So the slate is clean and I must do it again. I can convince myself of this. You can convince yourself of anything. Though I hope I have not convinced you that this is right. I know it is not. And yet I believe it.