This goes without saying as I look at the photo I took on my IPhone; I look tired as fuck. I think the unintended sacrifice of being an adult is understanding that most of the time, sleep becomes more of a privilege than a right – at least according to your body. If the stress of your existence is high, your body punishes you for lack of self-care by having your sleep cycle all screwed up.
Fixing such a situation would require several visits to the hospital to visit doctors who will feed me the usual answers; I’m too fat, I eat bad and I don’t take care of myself. Since lamenting your struggles gets seen as looking for a pity party, playing a victim and other such dismissives, the lack of acknowledgement about your problems becomes a survival tool for life.
While you may protect yourself from the social label of being a weakling, you are also blending your feelings of action into feelings of inaction which leads you to never fix the problem at hand, thus the cycle of sleep continues. I cannot claim to have at hand a solution to my problem, nor do I feel like I have the energy to put my mind to fixing it.
The minute I think about myself, consider myself, or even take account of my physical being, a distraction comes into play; as I am in the process of selling my parents house, trying to find a new place to live and live temporarily in this apartment, I find myself playing helicopter parent alot.
If I were to consider cooking a meal, even a microwave one (which is generally not good for you), I get a call that people who are handling my air conditioner repair won’t make the appointment I had set because other jobs have taken higher priority. While that is happening, I have to coordinate repairs to the apartment that never got addressed before I came in two months ago.
While this is happening, I am battling the creeping notion that my parents house may not get sold due to the high price and the fact that several things that need to be repaired don’t match up to the high price the real estate firm has set.
When this much is swimming through your soul, the idea of sleep seems irrelevant; the body gets to thinking that you, whether its good for you or not, should keep yourself awake for the next disaster to arrive or a follow-up to the current one you are in now. This is not the same as say reliving one’s time in Vietnam (I’m watching the Vietnam War by Ken Burns on Netflix). but it feels like it.
Since I am going to be up, watching a documentary about other people’s tragedies seems the logical response. That and it’s really time I clean my apartment.