MIPA Workshop Blogs

One crisp November morning, I awoke like any anxious high school girl who had had a nightmare. I hadn’t slept much. I was cranky. My eyes felt as if all the moisture that had lubricated them the previous day had evaporated. During the night, I had contracted the chronic disease taking over schools all over America. I was tired.

Little did I know however, that my seemingly small sickness, no more worrisome than a cold, would explode into a struggle that would forever change my life. I spent November tired. Then December, January, February. Month after month passed me, sleepless, dreamless, emotionless.

I slept in short spurts. Punctuated intervals. Some one day and none the day before. I did very little outside what was required of me and spent most of my time wishing I was doing nothing at all. I learned to live that way, to embrace the habits of an insomniac. And so slowly and painfully, like formation of a bruise, I became one.

To the average teen, the idea of a life without sleep doesn’t seem like such a terrible condition to have. In fact, I’ve spoken to many who actually seem to admire the possibility of never having to lay down and rest. They imagine all the things they could get done and the people they could talk to once provided with twenty-four hours to do so.

However, none seem to understand the consequences that come with this sort of a life. When actually faced with the insomnia, it doesn’t take long to realize that it is very much like outliving everyone, or having “eternal life.” Although the prospect may seem appealing, when there is no one awake to talk to, nights drag. Then, without the required rest each brain needs, the days drag. All energy and drive and passion for life simply leak out.

Not long after this personality leakage comes the last and most frightening stage of the sleepless battle. Comprehension. Knowing what you are. It’s similar to an out of body experience, but one that refuses to be shut off or shut down and exposes the most basic and yet, most terrifying concept for humans to come to terms with. Sometimes things just are the way they are. By yourself, you cannot change them.

I have spent long nights staring at the ceiling. I have spent long days staring at the wall. I have spent long hours trying to explain to classmates, teachers, and friends why the things that used to interest me no longer do. Through it all, I have tried to do it all on my own. But I can’t. I realize and have reached out for the help I so long needed. Now I understand that I know what it is like to be tired and I know what it is like to be alone. But most importantly, I know what is like to not be able to handle something. And I know that’s okay.