One of the Minis goes to bed with his music on. He doesn’t like loud noise, but he finds the silence deafening. He can hear the house noises otherwise, and that scares him. We live in a relatively new house, but it still creaks. The heating groans, the sounds take him back to his primitive time, when noise meant chaos, raised voices and mean words. Silence meant terror, sheer terror.
So I go in, every night, to check on him, and turn his music off when he is asleep.
The other Mini hates to have a light on. It has to be pitch black. If not, he can see shadows; silhouettes dancing across his walls. Other times, the shadows would creep towards him, dragging him to times in the depth of his subconscious.
For many years bedtimes were fraught with anger or fear. We were all tired, exhausted. I used to dread the bedtime routine, but over the years, the constant repetition, the nurturing, the reassurance, bedtime now means sleep. Sleep is now, most of the time, a safe time.
It’s good to take stock and to look back to see how far we have come.
I hope you have a peaceful, restful sleep. Leave the music on and turn the lights off.