Page 17 of Afterglow
My chest constricts, tighter and tighter. Breathing is a choking hazard with oxygen stuck in my throat. Ineedto end this call.
“I won’t, I’ve got to go. I have an assessment to finish,”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes as my breath slowly returns. I wipe them off my face quickly. Acknowledging the effect my father has on me increases my anxiety, pushing me closer to tipping point. All I want to hear is that my father is proud of me, no matter what I decide to do.
I don’t think that day will ever come.
Chapter 9
Jazmine Allen
Ihave accepted my fate: I am and always will be a night owl.
My brain finds comfort in the night, whether I am looking out my window watching the bright lights of the city or in Meadow Beach, where the stars glisten and glow against the midnight sky.
At first, I never believed I had insomnia. But as my study load increased along with my overthinking, sleeping became a chore. I am yet to find a way to fully exhaust my body to prevent waking up throughoutthe night.
It also limits my ability to study, which is why I am leaving the library at midnight. I message my roommates as I leave, letting them know I’m walking home. Usually, I drive but I didn’t plan to stay this late. Sofia replies with a thumbs up. She also likes to work at night; however, Sof knows when to have a break.
I don’t.
Another precaution I take when walking alone at night is the pepper spray in my back pocket. Although the university’s security has improved since freshman year—when girls reported random guys stalking them on campus—I’m not taking any chances.
The apartment is pitch black as I enter. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, my phone torch guides me through my apartment. I dodge the furniture, ending at the edge of my bed.
I’m so glad to be home. My eyelids are heavy, tension pulling in my muscles. Fatigue washes over me as I collapse onto my bed. Comfort melts through my body, pulling me into darkness.
***
Although my therapist would disagree with me, there are perks of having insomnia. For example, I wake up extraordinarily early, sometimes I force the birds from their slumber, not the other way round. This means I can work an early shift or run to release any stress still paining my muscles.
Squeezing my eyes shut, tighter each time, I coax my brain to sleep. I know there isn’t a point. As soon as dawn lingers, the dull beams of light passing through my window, I’m unable to find sleep again. I roll over, taking the bed cover with me and squint at my clock.
Five o’clock.
Fuck my life.
Last night, I was in and out of consciousness. Despite feeling as if weights were dragging my body into a coma and my eyes couldn’t stay open—I still couldn’t remain asleep. I doubt I was fully asleep for more than five hours. Insomnia is the worst habit I have and the hardest to stop.
I focus on my breathing, using the techniques Dr Gray recommended. Breathe in for three counts, hold for three counts and release. This is a hit or a miss, depending on the severity of my anxiety on that particular day. My hand finds the affirmation card, I’d say from muscle memory.
Don’t be pushed around by the fears in your mind. Be led by the dreams in your heart.
Easier said than done. The fears in my mind have been rampant for years, sometimes intrusive thoughts can strangle my neck, choking any optimism from me. I swallow in an attempt to push every emotion running through my veins below the surface.
I change into exercise clothes then find my phone and Airpods. Running is the best way to halt my overthinking, even if it is only for an hour.
My heart is pumping as I follow the concrete path that guides you through and around Lakewood University campus. Finally, exhaustion grows in my muscles.
I increase my pace as the voice in my ear informs me I have reached three miles. I'm approaching the last part of my route before arriving back home. I turn at the corner next to the gym and I slam into another body.
Fuck. I expect to fall onto my ass but an arm reaches towards me, grabbing onto my waist. An apology is on the tip of my tongue, as I look up to the face in front of me.
Theodore Knight. The one person, besides my brother, I didn’t want to see, especially not running straight into him.
“Princess, what are you doing up at this time?”
His voice is laced with concern. I hate it. I'm used to taking care of myself, this way I can avoid disappointment and rejection. Things that would happen if I asked for help.
