Rockin a serious case of 25/8 PMS?
Losing friends? ‘roiding out? Got folks blow darting you from afar with tranquilizers?
It might be a sign you’re just burning the candle at both ends.
(And then upgrading from a candle to a blowtorch. Which you use to decimate all’a your relationships.)
If you find yourself having to say “I’m sorry” a lot, getting stood-up, or just generally defriended by your former acquaintances en masse, it could be due to sleep deprivation induced derpiness. (Unless you’re the one who broadcasted online about your support for Donald Trump. ‘cause then you’ve got bigger probs. And, yes, I was among the companion culling). Indeed, if you’re losing heaps of pals outta nowhere cuzza your emo antics, the problem might be you. But don’t take that personally. It’s just you under the influence. See, you’ve OD’d on wakefulness. Wait till you’re sane again, and mend fences, if you like.
“Whyyy did I click ‘post’…?!”
One way this presents itself is via an admittedly, shamefully, facepalmingly problematic one for me, personally. I mean, normally, this shiz right here (points with keychain laser to chest cavity), is all Fort keep-Knoxxin-but-ya-can’t-come in. When I’m accruing snooze debt, though, is when I’m more likely to blow up – and emotionally mow down whatever poor unfortunate soul’s wandered into my radius. These are not my most noble moments. I’ve never regretted any hungover walk of shame as much as I do a sober first-world-problems-cry caused by sleepless psychosis.
Does it mean I’m mentally ill? No. (We’ve already confirmed that my mental illness in independent of sleep.) However, as the pros have shown, losing out on snoozing can indeed be the gasoline to any disorder-fire you’ve got flaming away in your brain. Depressive or not.
Which can be dangerous if it’s less about the blues and more about the mean reds. ‘cause, other times, the lack of nap-age can lead to emotional constipation. Or, as the sciencey folk put it: when exhaustion leads to non-empathy, burnout, and depression level escalation. In fact, a study done with kids who underslept demonstrated that the tendency to act a fool in school went up by about 25% compared to the calm ‘n rested tiny test subjects who were well behaved.
And, if you’re just a large child-woman (like the author whose work you’re reading), it’s not much better.
‘cause being a Rage-osaurus Rex is my genetic specialty. But add in a glass of grogginess, and you’ve got yourself some grade A crazy fuel. But this doesn’t surprise the experts over at Northwestern in Chicago. “The main thing is you’re less inhibited,” confirms Kelly Baron, PhD, an assistant professor of neurology. Which means it doesn’t take much for me to go from zero to psycho in point nada yesterseconds. (A generous underestimate.) This is particularly frustrating, ‘cause I’ve tried my hardest to cultivate and maintain a set of zen mental tools. But even the attempted-best of us fall prey to fatigue. I’m no exception – I’m the rule. Test me when I’ve got less than seven hours under my brain’s belt, and you’d better come equipped a Thorazine loaded needle.
So, if all’a this sounds terribly familiar, don’t surrender to the straitjacket just yet.
The fix might be as simple as this five point plan:
1.) Set an alarm for when you need to wake up tomorrow.
2.) Count back seven hours.
3.) Set another alarm for then, too.
4.) When it goes off, go to bed.
5.) Wash, rinse, repeat x forever.
(You’re welcome in advance.)