I’ve been staying up until four AM recently, thinking that as long as I get at least six or even five hours of sleep before work then I’ll be okay.
I remember when I used to wake up at five or six AM in middle school and high school on the weekends because I wanted to talk to my ex when we were still friends. I was so excited to see her and talk to her every time I woke up because of our huge timezone differences. The moment she dumped me, I slowly started waking up later. Seven AM, eight AM, nine AM. I stayed up until ten PM, eleven, sometimes even pushing to midnight.
And now that I’m out of school and working evening shifts for the most part, I’m up at these hours despite all my friends being asleep and having nothing to do. Maybe I’m hoping I’ll figure out how to die from lack of sleep, maybe I don’t want to because I never have dreams that I want. I’m waking up at eleven AM, sometimes not even until one PM. I try to reset my sleep schedule and yet I can’t; I keep hitting snooze because I don’t want to wake up. The sound of the alarm clock is the worst, reminding me that I’m still alive enough to move and open my eyes and hear it.
My eating habits have been getting worse too. In school I always skipped lunch because I was so self conscious of my weight so I got used to eating two meals per day. Then I started skipping breakfast in high school until having one meal per day is standard for me now because of how I sleep and when I work. I wonder if I can die from depriving my body of food? It already takes me so very many hours to finish one meal that it feels like I’m full for the day.
I can’t even bring myself to eat because I don’t feel hunger. Maybe my mind is slowly accepting my desire to die and isn’t even bothering to let my body feel my basic needs.
I think dying of hunger is painful though. I’d rather not go out like that if that’s the case.
I wish food tasted good again. I wish I had a reason to fucking wake up every day. Even when I’m conscious, I’m trying to dream of a man who doesn’t exist in a relationship that would never be able to happen with me. If I’m living like a corpse, why can’t I just become one?
Why does dying have to be so hard? Although I guess saying that insults people who have actually gone the extra mile with their tries. I’m just a pansy who’s scared of physical pain.