I spent an overwhelming majority of my spring and summer in bed. I woke up at noon, scrolled through TikTok for a couple of hours, cobbled together a two pm breakfast, promptly returned to bed, dragged myself downstairs to consume dinner, retreated back to my bed to mindlessly become one with my phone screen, and eventually blearily decided it was probably time to go to sleep around two am. It felt like my brain was legitimately rotting, but I had no motivation to change because it felt like nothing mattered. I had no one I could see, nowhere I could go, and nothing meaningful to do.
When I made the decision to move back to Davis, I did a complete 180. I signed up for three clubs, accepted every job offer that came my way, signed up for sixteen units of upper-division classes, and made as many (safe) plans as possible. Filling my schedule to the brim was my way of attempting to make up for the shell of a life I felt I had lived for six months. As you might imagine, this sharp change in my lifestyle wasn’t exactly the healthiest decision I’ve ever made. At first, I felt on top of the world and the most productive I have ever been. I woke up at seven in the morning and was asleep by eleven pm, having worked five jobs that day. Once school started, I found myself feeling like I was juggling nineteen things at any given time. I’d attend class while cooking lunch, respond to discussion posts hiding in the bathroom at one of my six jobs, and catch up with friends on the phone while biking to the store.
