The Power of Naps

I’ve been taking a lot of naps lately. It’s an ongoing struggle to feel less guilty about this. A few blog posts ago I wrote about my cancer’s father diagnosis. He’s doing great – his radiation treatment is well under way and he doesn’t seem to be having too many side effects. Regardless, that was stressful. Shortly after, I ended up getting mono, (I’ve heard way too many jokes about my love life of late) and that ended up meaning I pretty much spent the last two weeks of term two in a fog, along with a fair chunk of my holiday. At school, they told me I had laryngitis, gave me broad-spectrum antibiotics and some mildly dodgy cough medicine, and sent me to class. I don’t think I really remember much of what we learned in the last two weeks, and I pretty much passed out every time I sat down on my bed.

I’m still really tired. The fatigue aspect of mono is affecting me more than I thought it would, and it brings back bad memories of the fatigue I experienced when I had Zika virus. So – the naps. I have at least one 40 minute free period each day which gives me enough time to get back to my room for a catnap. Normally I would have an activity after school, but I haven’t been going. Instead, I nap. I also have started eating larger lunches so I can either skip dinner or just have a snack in my room so I can nap some more before doing some work. I haven’t been seeing my friends as much and I feel guilty for withdrawing when I know they have their own issues I should be helping support them through.

So many times since getting back, I’ve wanted to cry from exhaustion and from the guilt of not being able to fully experience Waterford. This is a relatively mild inconvenience – there are people who suffer from chronic fatigue and chronic illness. It just feels hard when you’re far away from home, and the support system for one’s health is somewhat lacking.

There is a huge emphasis on connection at Waterford, and that’s great. But it feels as if the administration sometimes encourages us to prioritise that over our health – both mental and physical. They encourage us to get enough rest, but that mostly takes the form of putting down your phone sooner so you can do your work so you can go to bed. There is less emphasis on taking time for yourself, and time to be aware of what you need.

This has been a harder start to the term than I would have liked. I think too many people try to paint UWC as a magical fairyland where things are hard but we all push through! It’s not. It’s hard. You get sick. You miss home. You don’t want to keep going, you want to fucking sleep. The thing I’ve been telling myself is this. Obviously I’m not going home, but when my brain suggests slyly that maybe we might consider going home, I ask it what I’d do. My friends are graduating; I’d be a 17 year old drop out and probably wouldn’t have any friends because most of them are leaving for uni. It’s grim, but it’s getting me out of bed.