Member-only story
I Went to Class Today
Celebrating the small victories
To put it shortly, last night was rough for me. I have schizoaffective disorder, and it was acting up. I heard voices whispering to me that I was stupid, worthless, evil, uniquely bad. On nights like that, it can be tough to believe things will ever get better, that I will ever feel happy again. Sometimes I call my mom, but not last night. There was nothing she could do, I thought, nothing she could do to save me from my own mind.
So I suffered in silence, quietly crying in my room and hoping my roommate didn’t hear. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything or take a shower. All I managed to do was pull my jeans off and fall into bed. Sleep wouldn’t come, though — I could only lie there, hoping I’d eventually drift off. I don’t know what time it was when my eyes finally closed. Late, for sure. Probably well past midnight.
Needless to say, I didn’t feel too good at the sound of my alarm this morning. On my antipsychotic medication, I need to get nine or ten hours of sleep to feel functional. I probably got around half that. Usually, I get up early in the morning to go to the gym. This morning, though, I hit the snooze button and drifted right back off, deciding that the gym could wait. I still haven’t been to the gym today, as I write this.
