[I’m so mad]
The passive aggressive rant:
I’m so mad. People tell me it’s impossible to be nocturnal and that it’s probably how I managed to screw my body clock up so badly. But it doesn’t explain how my eyes light up at 7pm once the sun sets while I’m on double the dosage of drowsy medication, or how my strength magically triples as mignight approaches.
I’m so mad. Everyone made me believe that waking up early in the morning was a sign of growing up. But if that’s the case then I’m still a child because even 10pm knock outs reap 2pm wakes.
I’m so mad. Because I love the night so much yet I am constantly separated from it by fatigue. No more conversations with the moon or staring out the window and feeling the crisp night time breeze in my hair; no more counting the stars while the world sleeps. All to show everyone that I am more than just a sleep deprived teenager.
I’m so mad. I gave up a life I was so comfortable in and thrived, for one where I wake up feeling like death. One with no fulfillment, paved with dread. To return to a home squared down to a bath, bed and closet.
I am so mad at myself, I really am.