Waking Up

I was going to write a long complaining post about how so and so sucks and I'm annoyed with some things in my life, and horribly overworked and tired all the time. But then I felt too tired to write that much angry stuff. So instead I'll write a reflection on my life.

There was once a time in my life where I couldn't get out of bed. That familiar stomach pain was there every time I opened my eyes. It was like having a rock in my stomach. It weighed me into my bed. I was in pain. A lot of pain. The invisible kind of pain, that you can't use as an excuse to get out of work or school. The kind you just have to get up and soldier through. Full of resentment and sadness.

But a few days ago I realized I had trouble again getting out of bed. I was worried I was going through depression again and hadn't noticed the signs. Then it dawned on me that the reason I didn't get out of bed was because I was tired and my room was cold. I was so warm and comfortable that I wake up and see my alarm before going back to sleep again. I never had the choice to go back to sleep when I was depressed. Sleep was just a mechanism to bide my time before what felt like certain walking death. Now sleep is a mechanism to regain energy. Just like it should be.

Life is annoying and tiring. But at least I'm me again.