Googling "why am I tired all the time"
I'm reading My Year of Rest and Relaxation, at the same time that I'm going through either a very rough bout of PMS or some kind of pandemic PTSD breakdown. Or maybe long Covid. Another possibility is the fact that my apartment in Brooklyn has a bay window in my bedroom, and my one bedroom window here in Chicago doesn't get very much light, let alone enough light for three windows.
One thing I've been enjoying about the past couple weeks of fatigue is that I've actually been indulging the fatigue. It's been about 15 degrees out the whole time, so no one really wants to go out and do things. I've been getting takeout, no cooking. I'm even less booked in terms of virtual events, so I've been sleeping until 2 PM, rewatching the X Files in most of my spare time, drinking tea, and eating whatever I want. Letting the soft animal of my body love what it loves, basically.
It kind of makes me wonder why I haven't been doing this all along, though I know the answer. It's a bit sad to say this, but this is the first chance I've really had to let the soft animal of my body love what it loves in a long, long time. Freelancing was basically traumatic for me; getting no help from my parents and writing to put a roof over my head for most of my twenties overwhelmed my body with adrenaline and sleep deprivation. Then I got a full time job during the pandemic, but it was the pandemic obviously.
Only since maybe November have I been able to really take a moment and rest from the past seven years of insanity. I've been trying to push myself to produce more writing (like with this substack) because I feel like I've already wasted too much time having breakdowns and being buffeted by the winds of chance. I've been really happy with my output, actually, but I've been sure to be nice to myself and cut out plenty of other things from my schedule—my body needs me to focus on down time, too.
The narrator from My Year of Rest and Relaxation has gone through a lot in the recent past, with both her parents dying and her shitty college boyfriend fucking with her heart by getting back with her every couple months. Her solution is to literally sleep for a year by taking sleeping pills all the time. My thought is that I'm going to finally try CBD, and stop judging myself for sleeping until 2 on the weekends rather than a more sensible 12.
I'm also not above sleeping for a week. If I don't text back in the next week or so, that's why. As Lorde said, can you reach me? No, you can't. Gonna end this post early to get back to my nap ;)