Je suis fatigue

I made the decision awhile ago to go to SETC, no matter what it took and, being that I was able to make it, I made sure that I would capitalize on every moment I had there. From the time time that I arrived in Atlanta a little after three on Wednesday afternoon to the time I wearily let my head fall onto a table in the hotel cafe on Saturday afternoon, I pushed myself to do take part in the conference in every manner possible. Between the workshops and the festivals and the volunteering, I exhausted myself to the point that I nearly couldn't see straight by the time it was over. It took staring at a wall and not being able to focus for me to realize how tired I was because I had been so engaged, so determined to completely immerse myself in this incredible world that I love so much. Despite my being fully involved and getting a very little rest in those four days, I didn't truly feel tired until I had no choice but to feel it.

I'm back at school for my second week since spring break and I am feeling weary. Granted, I did pull an all-nighter studying for two tests in completely different subjects, but even knowing cognitively that my body is lacking for sleep, this weariness is too familiar a feeling for me this semester. I used to be excited to be worn out, knowing it meant I had done significant work and anticipating a good sleep to follow. That isn't happening now. I sleep, but I don't get rest. I try, but I don't accomplish. I'm...losing. I seem to be missing the energy that invigorated me to survive those four fantastic days; the adrenaline that enabled me to run on empty. I'm empty now and I'm not sure what fuel will pick up my pace. I very much want to take a nap right now; a nice long nap from which I wake up without calculating how much more time I can stay down before being an utter failure; a nap that doesn't magnify my weariness instead of helping to assuage it. It may be a case of mind over matter, but even my mind is weary right now. I feel it with every part of me and only my need to keep writing is keeping me awake. It's something. It's keeping me going right now. It doesn't keep me writing enough, though. Too often, I don't write. I feel like it but I don't have the materials. I have the materials but not the time. I have the time but not the courage. I seek the courage...and lose the drive. Then all I want to do is sleep; just close my eyes and leave the world for awhile and hope it's nicer when I get back. But I get back and it's waiting for me; angry with me for making it wait rather than allowing it to keep going. I hate waiting. Who am I to make my life wait? My life hasn't the power to change itself; it can only keep going and has no choice but to wait on me to change it. I have been unfair. Life isn't fair. Two wrongs don't make a right. Life is hard. Life is real. Life is organic...alive. Dreams are beautiful, but I can only use them in wakefulness. I need to wake up. Wake up! Stop sleepwalking through life. There was a time I earned my sleep. I need to find a way back to then.