My Mornings

By some magical turn of events, I have fallen into the very deep dark hole of an extremely self-destructive habit. I can’t make myself get up in the morning. And it’s the worst case of this habit that I’ve ever had.

It goes like this. Every morning I look at the time on my alarm clock and calculate how much time I have before I have to leave for school. And then, once I realize how much more sleep I could get, I go back to sleep for as long as possible. I continue to do this until I’ve hit the snooze about 50 times. My morning is filled with sirens and honks and whistles and bells (until I turn down the volume, of course). And I just stay there in my shorts until I have to get up, and cower from my life by staying in bed for an unhealthy amount of time.

It’s an overpowering habit. It feels like the piece of my consciousness that clings to its adventures in dreamland has had dominance over my brain’s other parts lately. I tell myself at night that I’m going to wake myself up with enough time to have a calm and quiet morning with coffee and maybe even a lovely book before I have to deal with my day. (Might help to soothe all these homicidal thoughts I’ve been having…) But I can’t come to terms with what I have to deal with every day. I recoil beneath my warm sheets as long as possible to avoid thinking about facing a long day away from their embrace.

It’s not that I hate my life. I just have to go to a school I hate. Sadly I have found no spice in this place for a while now, even in the small quiet comforts I used to have. It’s not an exciting place to be, and in the mornings I don’t look forward wasting my entire day there. I have close friends and family that I talk to (and who probably keep me alive), but it’s been a struggle to look forward to doing anything at all lately. My energy is drained. Insufficient stimulation in this grey world.

I don’t even usually put any energy into looking good either. I tell myself I like the messy look, just because I’m not going to get myself to put any real time into it anyway. I could just sleep longer instead of stand in front of the mirror. (Who cares what I look like anyway? It’s not a beauty contest. I’m not paid to look good right now).

I guess this view means that my vanity is in check somewhat, but also that my life is falling apart and I’m not really taking care of myself or putting care into living. Failure to prepare is preparing to fail, right? I’m living my days in a defeated fatigue because I can’t bring myself to care about them. And therefore my life passes me by while I wait to go back to sleep. That’s the reality I’m living in right now.

And the worst part is that I end up just waiting for my day to be over so I can get back to sleep. I believe strongly in using all the time you have as well as you can. Don’t wait for some part of your life to pass, because there’s always something you’ll be waiting for, and you’ll end up waiting out your life basically. For the class to end; for the last hours of your job to end; for school to be over; for your child to no longer be in the toddler phase anymore…Am I just waiting for my life to end right now so I can finally just get some shut-eye? Would I sleep forever if I could? I surely am a Rip Van Winkle at heart. Sleeping away my problems, just fading into my imagination until my hair and nails grow long and all my problems and people I know are dead. Now that’s dark.

Motivation-wise I am on the verge of death.

And it’s really beyond humorous at this point. I absolutely hate waking up in the morning and avoid it as long as I can, until I stumble drowsily to my car and spend the rest of my day in an uninterested haze from not fully waking myself up. I need something more.

And nothing at the same time. I need to know that what I have right now is enough. That I have the right tools to make something out of my life. I possess the power right now to enjoy my mornings and take that little time I have to sit and think to myself and fully wake up, to be able to improve the rest of my day from that moment.

Am I having a mid-life crisis? Quarter-life crisis…? I need an intervention.

I’m pretty ashamed of how little I’ve been getting done and how tired and out of it I always feel. I want to feel into it. I want to be into something and make my life spicy again. “How are you?” “Oh, I’m on top of my life. I’m really feeling alive and motivated and inspired right now.” That sounds nice to me.

I’d like of course to be on the other side of this phase. Well, I don’t just want it. I’m not just going to just sit back and dream of what it would be like to have a nice day with a good start to it. (I don’t even remember my dreams because of that dreaded alarm; they dissipate quicker than my hopes of having a good morning…)

I say no more dreaming about it. I WILL have my mornings back. I am going to wake up early, no matter how much I tell myself that the extra sleep will be healthy for me. What’s healthy for me is having a day I actually want to be a part of, instead of just waiting until everything I have to get done is over with and I can close my eyes to it. That’s no way to live. Waiting for the next time you can shut everything out.

But there’s some hope out there for me. Some glimpse of a future where I love my mornings and love being alive and delighting in a sweet cup of coffee, even as it cools to a less unpleasant temperature beside my computer screen. I used to be an early riser. I would wake up before anyone else and just dink around talking to myself or listening to music or doing nothing at all for a while. I think for the type of contemplative person I am, it’s really beneficial to my mental health to have a long quiet morning.

I need to just go without that little extra sleep I’ve been trying to hold onto, in order to get up in time to gather myself in the morning. To feel good about myself, inside and out. I guess tomorrow morning will be another shot, huh…

( Well I started writing this yesterday and woke up today with a couple quiet hours to my morning! There is some small hope after all…)


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