"... now LIE in it." I was told as I was receiving my punishments growing up. This is one of the ways I learned my depression.
At the time I didn't get the sense that you could make a nice bed. It was the kind of hopeless bed that one laid in to die.
But why not? Couldn't I learn to do it better? What about a fresh set of sheets? Wouldn't that spruce things up? No I could not (because authority said so... End of story.). There was no making things good in that house--unless authority was drunk or bizarrely happy. And then it was just fate--the gods had forgotten.
I think that I'd like to learn to make a nice bed today... In fact, I think that it's kind of interesting that I've almost never made my bed unless it affected someone else...
I think that I'm DEATHLY AFRAID to make my own bed, because then I'll have to LIE IN IT.
I am trying to embody the truth that I can heal. There is hope. Everybody makes mistakes. I have made mistakes, too. Except I want to make a bed that I can heal in.
I want to get a brand new bed that will protect me when I sleep, and watch over me while I heal. …a bed that allows me to wake up fresh and ready to start things anew.
From the old bed I would wake up feeling groggy and still tired. …for I had been punished and forced to PAY.
In my new bed I wake up fresh-as-a-daisy, and welcome the sunshine as well as a little rain.
I am making a new bed that I can make over and over again.
