I’ve sat with people who tell me they dread bedtime. Not because they’re busy or wired from coffee, but because they’re afraid of what might happen once the lights go out.
 

Some wake up unable to move or speak, with a heavy feeling on their chest and a sense that someone is standing in the room. Some wake at 3am every night. Some hear a voice, sometimes a cruel one, and a few have heard it tell them to hurt themselves.
 

If that’s you, I’m glad you’re reading this. You’re not weak and you’re not mad. You deserve to be listened to properly.