September 2013: Pillow Fight
I was afraid of my pillow for 20-plus years. It wasn’t a specific pillow that I feared; it was any pillow— the pillow on my bed, a hotel pillow, a pillow on a couch, my forearm or just a wadded up shirt. When I was drinking, it didn’t matter what I was using to prop up my head for sleep. I hated any pillow. If I didn’t pass out, I knew I was in for the dreaded “pillow fight.” Because once my head hit that pillow, my fears became more focused and tangible. I was simply one long blink away from the horrors that waited the next day.