Looking back, the amount of time I’ve spent as a student was negatively correlated with the amount of sleep I got each night. As the evening hours ticked by, I was constantly confined to my books and papers, physics problems that were abandoned halfway and history essays left until the last minute. This might sound a little concerning, but as a night owl, I found solace in it all. There was a unique tranquility about staying up late, a type of silence broken only by the clicking of the keyboard and the occasional scratch of pencil on paper.
Even with the homework finished and the notebooks packed up, it was hard to fall asleep. As a chronic worrier, my mind refused to stay in the present. It led me to my memories, where I pondered obsolete maybes and paths untaken. What if I had studied a little bit harder for that exam? What if I hadn’t been too scared to approach her and say hi? What if I had been a little nicer, a little braver or a little bit more true to myself?
Something that helped when I found my mind wandering was re-centering my thoughts around what I was proud of. I would try to find space in my head for things I’ve come to love throughout high school, whether it’s the people I’ve met or the new interests I never thought I’d develop. Slowly but surely, I’d start to drift off.
Sleep comes eventually, as it always does. In the morning, my anxieties would have faded into the background. It was a new day, which meant it was time to pick out a cute fit (or, if it was wintertime, bundle up as much as possible). It was time to drive to school—or take the bus—and meet up with my friends to fight the morning drowsiness off together. It was time to type down notes (or play Minesweeper) in AP World, or get that first-period test over with. The day went by, and before I knew it, I was at Panera for an afternoon sweet treat with people that I wouldn’t trade for the world.
For me, high school wasn’t defined by the big events. It was made up of these little moments that grounded me, and every night I fell asleep a little bit easier thinking about what was to come.
And so, here is my one grandiose piece of advice: go to bed. You deserve it.
