I pulled up Google and typed in “WTF do I do.”
It’s been one of those weeks. Each night I have been in my bed by 6:30pm snuggling under my covers, the Melatonin cap sitting next to the dwindling container on my bathroom sink. When sleep finally comes, I wake up drenched in sweat, wide awake.
Four. The average number of times I wake up a night. My eyes are permanently black and blue. My new beauty blender has not been touched in a week, the makeup does not hide how tired I am so I stopped using it.
I am 23 years old and it is now 8:47pm on a Friday night. I have been shivering in my bed for two hours now unable to get it together. Why am I sharing this? Because it is real.
As a naturally energetic, imaginative, and subjective person I have learned over the years that it is easier to not have negative feelings. When I express any feeling aside from happy, excited, or over-joyed people assume something is horribly wrong with me. I become the recipient of major side eye, bombarded with “OMG what is wrong with you??” texts, and the ugliest part, I lose it and cannot stop crying. I once spent an entire day in bed crying at cute pictures of puppies during my junior year of college.
It is so much easier for me to hold in ‘the feelings’ 99.7% of the time and have these ugly crying explosions the other 0.3% because the truth is no one wants to deal with the ugly.
Wanting to seek bigger and better but feel lost? You’re told to ‘cheer up, it’ll be okay’ but inspirational quotes are all you have to hold you tight. Been asked how you are out of obligation? They do not care that you re-started Gossip Girl because you’re unable to sleep. Left out of plans? Don’t worry, you’ll get to scroll past it on Insta.
Happy, excited, and over-joyed are easy. People want to be around you, laugh at your jokes, and capture the moment with you. Tears, confusion, and not feeling like a priority are tough. The kind of toughness that leads to sleepless nights despite being in bed over 12 hours a day, tear-soaked pillow cases, and staying home on a Friday night.
The 0.3% is not welcome at a Super Bowl Sunday party and not invited to dance away the night at a local bar. When the ugly comes out, people sneak out the back door. The ugly smothers like a thick fog, most prominent in the early and late hours.
Google always knew the answers to my biology homework but the famous search engine had nothing helpful for the sleepless nights and my worsening complexion.