i wake up four times, tossing, turning. force myself back to sleep all four times. finally, the fifth time, i look at my phone to see the time: it is still only 12:30AM. i fell asleep around 10. does time freaking warp when we sleep?
i have to get up around 6. i figure then i get plenty of sleep. but here i am, wide awake. tense. alert. mentally disheveled. it’s that damn paper. i have to write that damn paper tomorrow. it is only four to six pages and i already know the material well, but i’m awake now, my mind drawn to and from the idea of it like a moth to a damn light bulb, and i don’t even feel like falling back to sleep.
i work tomorrow, only 7-12, but i’m trying to rationalize staying up all night and then working and then having all of the rest of tomorrow to write the paper. i’d be tired, and the next day i have to wake up again around 6, go to school around 7, come home around 2:30, and then i can sleep. and the next day i have work. and the next i have class again.
friday, i go to the doctor’s at 9:30. i don’t wanna go and explain everything that’s wrong with me. explain what new meds i’m on and what meds i no longer take. i don’t wanna go through all the hassle of a doctor poking and prodding me. when they hear i have depression, i don’t want them to ask all the questions that come along with that. how often do you think of harming yourself: alll the days, most of the days, a few of the days, or none of the days? ALL THE DAYS.
on a scale of 1-5, how badly do you wanna fuck with death? a solid 4, actually, now that i think about it. which isn’t that bad. see, things are looking up already. lol like the doc will even ask that tho.
now, again, unhappily, i am going to try to fall asleep. i yawn a lot but they’re deceptive. they lure me into a false sense of sleepiness, and then i just lay awake forever, waiting for the sun.