Awake

I lay in bed, in the dark, and felt something tough and bruised in front of my stomach. I felt it crawl up my body and into my mind, where my brain told me "you are feeling pain". It crawled back down to my stomach, with little tendrils drifting off into my back, my ankles and deep into my forehead where a headache has been throbbing for hours.

Today has been a day of exhaustion. I slept very little last night, not really less than usual, but I hadn't been able to really rest over the weekend, so it came down on me like a cloud, and it has been pressing in on me all day. I have been stressed, yet I finished the essay I have to hand in tomorrow, and at the moment I am fine. Tomorrow I shall do the reading for Wednesday. Tomorrow shall be quite relaxed. I just need to get up earlier so I can print out the essay.

As always, little chips of panic are dropping into my head. The library could be busy and I won't be able to print it out in time. I'll have to get up really early. I'm not going to get enough sleep. Tomorrow will be horrible. It's all pressing in; it's being channeled through the pressure on my forehead.

I know it will be okay.

I am quite cold now, and I feel hungry, but it's really just the empty. It is back. I thought it was hunger so I ate. I thought it was thirst so I drank. It took me a while to realise it's the gnawing depth that won't let itself be satisfied. I should have realised when I had my crying fit yesterday.

I could crawl back into bed and lie awake for a couple of hours. I always hate going to bed. Sleep just won't come to me, and it makes me feel strangely frustrated and sad at the same time. Then I wake up through the night, before waking about an hour or so before my alarm is due to go off. No matter what time it is set at, I always wake early, and only doze off again just a few minutes before it goes off. This morning I should have slept until it rang; I was supposed to get up roughly two and a half hours earlier than usual. This is my new Monday. Unfortunately I was awake at six.

I think I will distract myself. I could make noodle soup and find something to watch online.

I could worry about the calories in the soup, but fuck that.