Think about your feet

When I was younger and I was having trouble getting to sleep I would go to my parents' room, knock on the door, and then complain that I couldn't sleep. My mom had only one response:
"Think about your feet."
"I don't wanna think about my feet."
"Then think about my feet."
And that was it. No further discussion, nothing more would come from the darkened room, no matter how much whining I did. If I came back later, after mom had fallen asleep, my dad would generally wake up to patronize my sleeplessness. I guess he was always concerned that I had puked, or there was a gigantic spider. But if I said that I couldn't sleep, he would say,
"Think about your feet."
"I don't wanna think about my feet."
"Then think about your mother's feet."
And that was it. A cruel joke, truly. I used to lay awake in bed for hours and hours every night, sometimes frozen in terror because my closet door was open and I was really afraid of the dark. I don't know if anyone else has felt this fear, but it is miserable. You're lying flat on your back, or maybe curled up, and you are afraid to close your eyes, afraid to move, obviously afraid to leave your bed for any reason because of what might reach out and grab you from under the bed. You keep all of your limbs well hidden under the blanket. I would watch my digital alarm clock. I had designated wishing times, like at 11:11, or when the clock turned to midnight and the little AM button went on, and then at 1:11 and 2:22. Sad, really, considering my bedtime was around 9:00. But if you think any of that sucks, this here is the kicker.
My most recent issue of Cosmopolitan has an article on helping you sleep. It lists various obvious tricks and tips, and then there is the final one, labeled "the Gold Standard." It starts off with, "Begin by thinking about your feet..."
Un-fucking-believable.

EDIT: For today's Tyler post, click here: A short, sharp and vicious relapse