I’m sitting in class trying to take notes while my eyes close more and more, despite being on my third energy drink and not waking up until 20 minutes before class started. My mind is telling me I’m being lazy, that I need to keep it together. My body feels like it’s dragging me back to my apartment to sleep for three more hours, and even that might not be enough.
That night, I called my mom. I figured my sleep schedule or routine was off. But my mom knows me better than anyone, and she knew that waking up at 7 a.m. had never been a problem for me. Naps had never even been part of the conversation. She told me to come home and get blood work done.
It was mono.
Before this, my days ran on momentum: waking up early, class, the gym, friends, homework, a Her Campus article, and somehow still energy left over. People called me a little ball of energy. Some even asked what I was taking to keep up that pace. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve always been ready to move. I hated sitting at home. I hated sleeping in. After a night out, I’d be annoyed at my friends for not being up at 7 a.m. sharp.
Now, waking up before 10 feels impossible. The gym isn’t even a question.
I know this might sound dramatic, but my routine and my energy have always been a big part of who I am. Doing so much in a day kept me busy and focused. Being ahead in school and checking off goals every day gave me a sense of self and accomplishment.
Now I look at all the assignments I’ve missed and how far behind I am, and I feel lost. And guilty. I feel like I should have been able to push past it and keep up with my day-to-day, and now I don’t know how to get back to it. A month and a half without my normal life has messed with my mind in ways I didn’t know were possible. I feel lazy but also panicked, like I’ve failed myself.
But I didn’t fail. I was sick.
Now that I’m finally feeling better physically, I’m trying to get back to my everyday life. But my mental state has become a bigger obstacle than the sickness itself. My head keeps telling me I’m too far behind, that there’s no way to catch up. I catch myself spiraling, hyperfocusing on the wrong things. I never thought being sick could affect my mental health this much, but here I am, fighting panic attacks and anxiety over something I couldn’t control.
It’s a weird kind of “sickness” when your body feels capable but your mind is frozen. So I’ve started celebrating the small moments. Every day, I try to do one more thing than I did the day before. Some days that means waking up before 8. Other days it means finishing a few assignments.
Being sick took a lot from me: my time, my energy, my routine. But it also gave me something unexpected. It made me slow down and ask why my sense of self is so wrapped up in the goals I check off each day. I’d never questioned why finishing all my homework before Wednesday mattered so much to me. But when I couldn’t do it, and I felt that dread settle like a weight in my stomach, I had to ask.
These were the answers I came up with:
If I’m ahead, no one can say I’m not smart.
If I go to the gym every day, no one can say I’m not strong.
If I wake up before 7 every day, no one can call me lazy.
My sense of self came from making others proud and from never giving anyone a reason to say otherwise.
That was hard to admit. I’d spent so long proving myself that I never stopped to ask who I was when no one was watching. Mono took away my ability to prove anything, and what was left was just me.
I don’t think I’m the only one. So many of us measure our worth by how much we get done, and it takes something like this to make us notice.
I’ve realized that maybe I don’t completely know myself yet, and I’m okay with that. I know what I like doing and what makes me happy, and I want to find myself in those moments instead of in my to-do list. Like when I first wake up and instead of rushing to the gym, I stay in bed with my cat and let myself have a few minutes of peace and stillness.
So thank you, mono, for slowing me down long enough to realize that I don’t have to earn my worth by keeping up. Sometimes it’s okay to do things just for me.
And if you’re sick, behind, and feeling guilty about it: you’re not lazy. Talk to your professors, reach out to Disability Services or counseling, and give yourself the same grace you’d give a friend.