Sleepless Nights

It's been a long time since my first post. I think that first post (which I recommend you read if you haven't yet) was necessary for a little personal catharsis, as the thing in question was eating me from the inside. As it turns out, I should probably have saved that for a later post, because quite a lot of my motivation to write had simply vanished. But now, at 4.22am - and having survived the apocalypse predicted by the Maya* - I am still awake and in need of something to do.

Something that happens to me just about every time that I go on holiday from school (or as is the case now, University) is that my sleeping pattern very quickly degrades into what is more or less nocturnalism.** This can normally be put down to me having nothing to be up for in the morning and thinking "well there's no need to go to bed yet, I'll just finish [insert random activity, usually involving computers or consoles]".
For example, tonight I spent a great deal of time messing around with my laptop and installing cool little programs that won't actually benefit me in the slightest. Then the little app-indicator thing for one of my new bits of software didn't look quite right, so I spent half an hour tweaking that so it fit in with the rest of my theme. After having done that I messed around with google chrome, installing a few new extensions (again, with no real need for them); read a few emails; updated my google+ account (incidentally, everybody should use G+: it's vastly better than Facebook); and played a computer game for the best part of ninety minutes.
And now, it's not even that I don't have anything to get up for. It's simply that I've been going to sleep later and later and earlier and earlier (see what I did there?) that come 4 in the morning I'm just not tired. Then again, a couple of years ago when I was working every day in the winter holidays from 7 until 4 - completely missing out on any sunlight in the process - I still did this. Though at that time I just felt I was getting precisely zero time to myself to just chill out, so I'd end up working quite intensively on sometimes less than 3 hours' sleep. So maybe it's not that there's no reason to be up before noon on the morrow.
I think what I'm trying to say in all of this is that I feel that the older I get (because 20 years old is just ancient) the more and more I feel that there aren't enough hours in the day. But perhaps that's because I waste so much of my day doing nothing at all, that had I really done something useful with the hours of freedom, when it gets to the time I'd start to do something to relax, I've been doing it for hours already and just decide to continue.


Of course, I'll have to fix this minor mental malfunction (have some alliteration!) come January, and my exams. But in the long-term, I could do with getting it fixed permanently. Eventually I'll have a job, and it's likely that this job will require me to be up early and work from 9 until 5; ultimately leaving me with much less free-time than I would like. Plus there'll be meals to make and a house to clean and all manner of other things to do that are necessary.

...

I seem to think that when I started writing this that I had some kind of clear goal in mind as to the stopping point. I am beginning to suspect that I've lost my way a little, but can't quite decide if I have or not.
The moral of this story, then, is that I must start to do some more useful things with my days, and stop just wasting time. Carpe diem and all of that.


*If anybody is having difficulty pronouncing this word, consider that its pronunciation is not the same as Maia.

**I assume that nocturnalism is actually a word, but my browser's in-built spell-checker is objecting to it. I think I may have mentioned this in a post over on Diary of a Gaijin... But I'm not massively sure, and have no inclination to go and check, either. But if it isn't a word, then I shall begin a campaign to have it wordified, because it's clearly necessary.

Confession

I think I've been lying to myself.

In Japan I removed my piercings because that's not who I am. Just a week ago I had a drastic haircut, which I intend to keep; because I prefer myself with short hair.

These and other superficial, exterior things had led me to think to myself that I was growing up: becoming a more mature individual. And to a certain extent, I am - I have done a fair amount of growing up over the past year. But something happened this weekend.

My sister got married.

Now this in itself does not make me feel immature: I am in no rush to get married (indeed, I'd need to find myself a lady-person first).

As with birthdays, New Year, Christmas and two-for-one drinks at Carpe Diem, weddings are an excuse to have a party, and perhaps a few drinks - which is no real problem, of course. However, as a student there was something in the back of my mind telling me that moderation was unnecessary: "if you drink, you drink to excess!"

I had a great time, dancing like a crazed chicken (the only way I know how) and knocking back Jägermeister like there was no tomorrow. The actual leaving part of the night is a little hazy to say the least, but I know for certain that I was in a state. Sitting in the taxi next to my little sister, I vaguely remember telling her - which she has since confirmed - asking her not to tell Mum (who was sitting on the other side of her) how drunk I was. I am also told that I was determined to walk home rather than take the taxi... I can believe this, despite not remembering it. Somewhere in my drunk brain I am sure there was something saying "if you walk home, you'll probably have enough fresh air to not be sick."

Now, as the Facebook page "Leeds Uni Confessions" would have you believe, getting blind drunk and throwing up and waking up in a pile of your... emission is something that means you had a damned good night.

Having now experienced this, I believe there is nothing further from the truth.

Setting aside for now the embarrassment, shame and guilt at throwing up all over your bed for the time being - lets talk danger. If I had not been on my side, I could well have choked and died; or at least come very close.

There is nothing more horrifying than that realisation.

It's very hard to put into words how bad I feel about being so utterly stupid, and scaring my parents so much (as I know I have). It was even harder for me to say this to my parents' faces, so I'm putting this onto the Internet for all to see:

I am unequivocally, utterly and totally sorry.

Returning to the matter of my maturity; I am clearly not as mature as I would like to think of myself. Moreover, I have scared myself into action. So;

• I promise not to drink so much in such a short space of time ever again
• I promise to know my limits
• I promise that I will set a good example for any who take example from me
• I promise never to scare my parents like that again

For the next few days I am on the wagon. And after that I am going to prove to myself that I can go out and have a good time without being so drunk that I manage to put a mattress out of commission.

With this, I hope, will come a new sense of responsibility when it comes to my studies and hopefully a turning point in my student career.

I feel at this point I run the risk of being misconstrued.

Know that I am being utterly self-centred when I write this, and have no desire to try to change anybody else's habits: this is just something that I have realised about myself and wanted to share with the Internet.