Life At 3 am.
By: A Girl
Tags: Insomnia, Migraines, Creative Non Fiction

Sunday

After a night of turning and tossing, I finally reach for my phone. The blinding light meets my eyes and they squint. The time is 5.30 am. I jump out of bed quickly, forgetting the throbbing pain in my head that has stopped me from getting any sleep.

I can’t make it to church today, I know it. My body cannot endure the long car ride and I do not have the strength to carry out my duties as an usher and a Sunday School teacher.

I make my way to my parents’ room. My best option is to declare myself sick before my father’s calls for morning prayers resounds through the house. Any attempts to report my sickness after the wake-up call might be seen as a lazy attempt to avoid church.

“Daddy, I don’t feel so good,” I mutter, a tear drops from my eyes and I feel a trickle down my thighs.

“What is this now? This wasn’t part of the plan o,” the voice in my head queries. I wonder this too, but at this point I’m not really in control of my body. The pain in my head has taken over, taking charge of the rest of my activities for today.

Monday

Everyone at home is either asleep or on their way to bed. I try to prevent my sister from falling asleep by showing her Me As A tweets. The intensity of her laughter fluctuates and I fear that she’s going to lose interest soon enough.

“Show me the remaining tweets tomorrow. I’m trying to sleep,” she says and turns to the other side. I read another tweet aloud and I get no response, she’s asleep. I read a few pages from a book to get my eyes sleepy. I turn off the light and begin to count sheep. The technique works, but not for long. I spend the rest of the night turning and tossing. My father’s calls for prayer signals the beginning of a new day.

Tuesday

Sleep paralysis plagues me by day and sleeplessness has its way at night. In today’s episode of sleep paralysis, an unseen hand tries to strangle me and I thrash about in a bid to survive — this is new.

Finally, understands the nature of my headache — a migraine. “God forbid, you cannot have migraine. I reject it,” my father repeats from the pharmacy, all the way home. Deep down I’m just happy to receive stronger medication, Panadol and perseverance isn’t working for me anymore.

I heed the pharmacist’s instructions — a bath, a cup of fruit juice and lots of sleep. The first two come to me very easily and I lay in bed, waiting for the third one to kick in. I read a book to speed up the falling asleep process but all I get is a few tear drops. I read some more and I scour the internet for entertainment. Later on, it occurs to me that a side effect of the drug is sleep disturbance. Then I remember that it also contains caffeine and I begin to lose my shit.

My body is restless and my mind is too. In less than an hour, I have considered getting up to carry out a few house chores. The Nigerian in me isn’t quick to forget that sweeping at night is a bad omen. I laugh at myself for craving workout exercises at 3 am. I turn out the light and close my eyes, and all my mind can conjure up is kegel exercises — super weird. I get out of bed to catch a few mosquitoes, and my nighttime activity stirs my sister awake for a few minutes.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask myself, and I start to laugh. The whole situation is really hilarious, I imagine someone walking into the room to find me jumping on a table and clapping.

I go back to Twitter to resume ranting to my friend about issues concerning my mental health, which may or may not be a figment of my imagination. I take a pee break and he’s gone — men are scum. I stand in front of the mirror and I can’t recognise me. I’m grateful that my red shirt is no longer hanging from my shoulder, maybe my posture is finally right. The thought that people will bully me for my inability to add weight when school resumes fills me with fear. My heartbeat feels irregular and I can’t tell if it is a part of the side effects. I lay on my side and wait for daybreak — I guess it’s a small price to pay for a relief from migraines.