Sleepwalking

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not feel tired.

I’ve been falling asleep all the time at uni. I’ve fallen asleep in every single one of my art history lectures this year without fail, even the one at the art gallery with the curator. I fall asleep in the tutorials too. I dozed off in stats today and we were barely ten minutes in.

There’s always this little shock that you get when you wake up and realize half an hour’s passed. It’s a pretty terrifying feeling.

I really hate university.

People keep telling me that it gets better, that even though I hated first year, I’ll enjoy second year. I’m waiting, but nothing has changed.

Every night when I set my alarm, I count on my fingers how many hours I’ll get to sleep before I wake up again. I get very excited when I get seven or more. When I wake up, the thing I look forward to most that day is going back to bed.

I used to look forward to university. Because the image of university life always seemed so great, the idea of studying what you want to become who you want to be, the circles and groups of people who share the same interest, the freedom to explore and make your own decisions, the place where you’ll find the friends you want to keep beside you for the rest of your life. Isn’t this supposed to be the best time of your life? Isn’t university supposed to be the highlights, the best memories, the period of your youth you want to remain in forever?

I’ve been sold a defective product and I want a refund.

Do you get enough sleep? You need to sleep earlier. You need to sleep more. You need to stop staying up so late.

I’m only tired when it comes to university. I only want to sleep in when I don’t want to go to school.

I hate academia.  And I’m less than favourable to academics. I dislike studying. I hate research. I want to learn, but not like this.

University isn’t for some people, but I didn’t think I was one of them.

You’re not even trying.

I’m always making jokes about what a loner I am, how I have no friends and zero social interaction. That’s a massive lie.

Believe me; I know university enjoyment is based off the friends and people you surround yourself with. I know I can go to the events and activities that all those societies I joined run. I know I can find people with similar interests. I know I can make friends easily, I know I can just start a conversation.

But I don’t want shallow friendships. I don’t want to socialise by going out and clubbing and drinking.

What do you want?

I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I expected. I’m sorry for being an ungrateful whiny bastard. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to explain. I can’t put this into words. I don’t know why I’m unhappy here, but the fact is that I am. What do I want? What do I want to do most of all? What would make me happy?

There are really only two things:

 I just want to write.

I want to stay home and paint.

Will I keep sleepwalking through this disappointing university life? But what I get when I wake up is so disappointing I’d rather close my eyes again.

(And I don’t see what’s so sad about never leaving the house with only a few cats for company. It actually sounds so lovely and comfortable.)

What I would like most is to be able to get a book contract, and drop out of university.

But that’s just me dreaming too big as always.

(In the end, I’m just a grossly introverted kid in a broken newspaper boat floating in a vast ocean and feeling very seasick. To make matters worse, I sleepwalk and any moment now, I’ll probably drown.)