Written during that cursed window of time where being awake feels powerful until it doesn’t.
I am not going to sleep tonight. That’s what I do when I feel like I have lost control, when the weight of my own mind presses down too heavily, and I need some small act of defiance to remind myself that I am still the one making decisions. Even if the decision is nothing more than staying awake.
Maybe I am making excuses, maybe I am justifying a cycle I already know too well. But in the moment, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like choosing. And choosing feels better than submitting. The alternative is letting exhaustion pull me under, slipping into a sleep that doesn’t feel like rest, only surrender. There’s something about being awake when the world is quiet, something about staring at the ceiling while time stretches itself thin, something about feeling like a ghost haunting my own body.
If I stay awake long enough, maybe I will reach the other side of whatever this is. Maybe fatigue will turn into something softer, something dreamlike, something less unbearable than lying in the dark with my own thoughts. Maybe my body will forget it needs rest before my mind can decide it does.
Or maybe I will just watch the sun rise and feel the weight of another night spent proving a point to no one.
Throwing a tantrum at your ass and ending up shitting yourself, I would say.
You might also like Working From Home Wasn’t Meant for Someone Like Me.
