this morning I woke up early.

For the previous several evenings my whole body has been so full of anxt that I couldn’t function, couldn’t study, could barely sit still. My skin was crawling, I felt restless, like I desperately needed to move but I was so tired and I couldn’t. My brain filled up with so much agitation it was hard to string two thoughts together consecutively. All I could feel was the distress.

For most of the day I’ll be able to get by, but in the evenings the feeling will become impossible to deal with. I’ve been spending my days dreading what’s coming in the evenings, because it hasn’t been going away.

And boy, do I really not have time for this right now. This is the last full week of school before finals week. And I need all the time, I need more time, and here’s this thing taking time away from me when I need it the most.

I do some research and discover that there is a name for this feeling, and I understand why this is happening to me. I talk to my dad, who knows about these things, and we come up with a plan. I call my doctor to explain the situation and ask for help. I leave a message, and then I wait.

In the meantime, in the evenings, the only way to sooth this feeling is to drink lots of water and then become decidedly unconscious. So I go to bed early. As soon as I start to feel the symptoms getting worse, I force myself up the stairs and I lay down in bed and close my eyes and will myself into sleep.

I’ve never actually been able to go to sleep on purpose before, but this week I discover that when I need to, I can.

After going to bed at 7:30 or 8:00 at night, I wake up with the sun and have enough energy to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up. A little bit of the feeling is there, behind my eyes, but mostly it has faded.

Getting out of bed early in the morning is usually difficult. My sleep rhythms are inclined towards staying up late for a long time in the darkness, and blinking awake to a room full of light.

Just when I need more time the most, my body catches on and decides to wake me up hours before I usually do. With energy. Like – “here you go, hon. Sorry about last night. Here’s another chance.”

I say thank you with a glass of water and more of the necessary chemicals. And then the late night of studying which never happened becomes time hunkered down over the books, while the sun rises.

And it’s a peaceful time. It’s quiet. Nobody else needs anything from me, nobody is arguing in the kitchen. The light is gentle, not artificial, not from a smartphone. It’s real.

I decide that even though it’s been awhile I still really love mornings. Maybe this is good. Maybe trying to work on a different schedule is actually going to help me get through these last couple of stressful weeks. Maybe I needed this.

I read somewhere that when your health is really bad it’s hard to understand what to expect from yourself. Some of the incoming messages tell you that it’s okay not to push yourself, it’s okay to rest, it’s okay even to sink down into the mire without fighting it. Some of the incoming messages tell you that you must fight it, you must fight very hard, you have to push yourself to the brink until you’re almost frozen. And it’s so confusing and scary not to know which path is the right one.

But I think there might be a third place. A place where I’m not sinking into the helpless feeling and I’m also not stretching myself so thin that I can’t go on anymore. I think there might be a happy medium.

I’m just not always sure where to find it.

I found it for a moment in the morning, doing my best with school after a difficult night. Just sitting cross legged under several blankets, drinking water, with a textbook balanced on my knees. Feeling okay.

I hope it’s an excellent Monday.