A Day In The Life of Me
Today is Sunday. It is June 14. I don’t care. It’s just another round. Here we go.
I went to bed last night at around 5:30. That’s when my body caved in from exhaustion after crying for 8 hours straight.
My medication requires me to get a good night’s rest. Do night terrors count as good?
My father came in at 10 to wake me up. It is unacceptable to wake up very late in the afternoon. How much sleep do I need anyways?
Now my head hurts. I want to vomit. I think I would if there was anything in my stomach. I can’t even stand I feel so disoriented. My dad tells me to sit down. But sleep is not an option. I have to be active.
I am going to throw up.
I sit down with him. I tell him about my articles. I share what has been on my mind. I share how this is the one time I have my own thoughts. The one time I can hear myself. Otherwise, it feels like someone else is always in my head. I tell him how I struggle to maintain relationships because of the bizarre thoughts I have. He sits in silence. He only listens. The pain slips into my voice and the tears just flow. It’s because everything I say is from my heart and soul. He puts his papers down, deep in thought. I think my dad is beginning to understand my struggle.
My mom walks in. Time to eat. Oh, no. I try to explain that even the thought of food makes me nauseous. I haven’t even been able to drink a glass of water yet. We keep on debating. She says I need to eat. I don’t want to. I’m getting frustrated. I don’t have the capacity to handle this right now. I know she means well. I am trying to keep that in mind. She says I can have anything I want but I have to eat. I feel awful. My mother doesn’t deserve this. I’m already in pain anyways, I can take some more. I eat. It’s such a fight to keep everything down.
I am behind on my school assignments. I have already lost points. I ask my sister to bring my laptop so I can try to do them. They’re so overwhelming. How am I going to do this?
Oh, wait. I just realized... I can't remember when I last showered. I am disgusting. I am wearing a sweatshirt and thick pajamas in the heat. I don’t care to change. I am filth anyways.
I just want to go back into my bed. I want to sob nonstop. I don’t even know if I hate it to be honest. It’s just the only thing I can do. It’s all my body will do. The only thing my heart craves. I want to disappear. I don’t want to exist in this world. My bed is the closest I ever feel to that. Being in excruciating pain at least allows me to be me.
I just have to go through the motions for the next few hours. Then I can find a way to numb myself and spend 8 hours in my bed until I pass out again. My sweet escape.
And then I do this all over again.