I hear the birds chirp.
I see the dawn through my window.
I guess I’ll sleep in class today. Or maybe I’ll sleep tomorrow. I don’t know.
Insomnia is a thing too strange to be called a disease. I was diagnosed with acute insomnia in the ninth grade. The doctor couldn’t tell me what caused it, but what he could tell me was that there would be a haze. I didn’t get what he meant until the haze hit me. The haze is a constant failure to get into the state of sleeping, but a constant state of sleepiness. I was tired, but I couldn’t get out of my consciousness as I lay in bed. The doctor said that one of the leading reasons why people of my age got insomnia was due to a combination of bad medication and a forced lack of sleep. Every glance at the clock on the wall seems to be the last I will give, but then time passes and I glance again.
“My darling sleep has become a forever horny animal by day. She satisfies my needs whenever I come to her, or pulls me in without giving any notice. At night, she teases me, not entering my bed. I guess it is my fault that she does that, because I neglected her all these years after sundown. She is the kind of girl that drives me crazy. I want her all day, and whenever I get her, I am in pure ecstasy. But years of neglect and abuse have made her fickle and irritable, and she leaves me as soon and as easily as she comes.”
The constant loss of focus due to the constant tiredness is strangely addictive. I space out for a moment, and suddenly a minute has passed. Every moment that I don’t like can be skipped. But then comes along a moment which I don’t want to skip, and my double-edged sword cuts me. My attention span is bordering on a few minutes, on a good day. Every soft surface claims it can be my pillow, and every hard surface makes the same face a prostitute makes when I pass her by in my car (kids, say no to prostitutes. I don’t support prostitution).
“Dude, were you listening?”
“Sorry man, I phased out for a second.”
“This is serious man, how can you be so careless and ignorant?”
“I’m just really tired man.”
Dreams are no longer positive experiences. A sudden sway from reality to chaos takes place throughout the day. Consciousness is not a right of the mind now - it has to earn it. Unless there is total energising by adrenaline, the mind refuses to function properly. I am irritable as hell, loud noises have their decibels multiplied by two, and the lights are magnified right into my eye instead of spreading out through the room. My parents can’t wrap their minds around the idea of insomnia.
“Just sleep, why are you up on your computer all night?”
“I am up all night irrespective of the computer.”
“Just go to sleep. This is all your doing.”
“Just go away. I don’t want to be pissed off.”
The sleep that comes is like heaven. Every time I am able to slip into sleep at night, it is like snuggling into a warm, soft, and fluffy comforter on a winter night. The waking hurts, my mouth is sealed shut with cottonmouth, and my eyes are burning and watery at the same time (ever thought that to be ironic?). But I am trying my best to get back to normal. I get in bed on time, I don’t eat anything sweet before going to bed, I usually take a bath, and I avoid my laptop and phone before sleeping. It’s slowly getting better, but it’s hard to imagine how those who have chronic insomnia must feel like.
“I am now tired of this game of catch and run. I want things back to the way they were. My darling sleep, I know I have wronged you, and I know this is your sweet vengeance. I am ready to change, ready to make you love me again. I will spend the day away, give you your time, and at night when I return, you will wait for me in my bed. We will be together for as long as we want. None of these hit and runs. Be the sweet innocent angel that I fell for when I was a kid.”
Photography By: Manbarasan