In the dead of night, everything is supposed to rest. It’s the only time of day where no one expects nothing from you and all you really have to do is sit there in the dark of your room, the only light coming from the glow of your computer, and just make sure you keep on breathing. But for some reason I can’t even manage that. I feel like I just pounded 17 shots of espresso and then injected liquid caffeine straight into my blood stream; my heart is beating so hard inside of my chest.
I can’t blame this on anxiety or genetics or anything of the sort. I can’t blame it on anything because I can’t hear myself think over the sound of blood rushing through my body. In this dark room, I can’t see my hands shake, but I don’t need to. My entire body is beyond jittery; violently shaking in my seat. It hurts. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. It all takes its toll.
In the dead of night, everything is supposed to rest. It’s the only time of day where no one expects nothing from you. It’s supposed to be peaceful. Silent. So why do I feel so betrayed by my body right now?
- Jean-Luc Dumont