The last three years of my life have been weird. Moving to University was weird. Meeting so many new people was weird. Going to lectures and seminars, you guessed it, weird. These were a good kind of weird though, they helped me grow up and into the person I am today. What was the one thing I left behind amidst all this weirdness? Sleep.
first year of uni
As university begins, so do the late nights. Whether that’s clubbing, writing an essay, or revising; the late nights never end. Our bodies become used to the late nights, so when we try to return to an earlier sleep schedule, we simply can’t. In my first year, I was sleeping at 5 am and waking up at 5 pm. I didn’t see the sun for days on end. It was hell. However, my silly little first year self saw nothing wrong with it, so with a lack of vitamin D and rapidly declining mental health, I started second year.
second year of uni
The bad sleeping continued, albeit at more reasonable times. But at least I was sleeping, right? Wrong. March 2024 was the worst month of my life (for personal reasons that none of you readers need a trauma dump about) and sleep altogether stopped. No matter how tired I was, my brain simply would not let me sleep. I would stay awake for days, slumped up in my tiny university box room staring at the same four walls. I was slowly going insane.
I believe now that I had short term insomnia as a result of a traumatic event, which explains A LOT. My sleep schedule was already awful, and I had been caught in the wave of the “university lifestyle” before I’d even noticed. The minute something horrific happened, sleep altogether stopped. No sleep meant no working braincells, which meant nearly failing half of my second year, but alas, I prevailed.
The University Lifestyle
“Go to uni”, they said, “it’ll be fun”, they said.
And yeah, it actually is really fun. I’ve learnt independence, some form of discipline, and a lot about really, really old books. But I’ve also met friends for life and realised a lot about myself and my boundaries. The university lifestyle is what you yourself make it, however, others will try to pressure the sex, drugs, and alcohol onto you HEAVILY. If that isn’t your vibe, don’t ever feel pressure to do anything you don’t want to do. However, I enjoy clubbing and drinking. The uni life appealed to me in that sense, but also in the academic sense. So, where did it all go wrong?
I think recently I’ve seen the effects of excessive drinking, as the hangover memory loss is getting a tad concerning. This isn’t to say that when you come to university, and if you drink there, you are going to experience the same things as me. This is just my life, and my recount of it. I think the minute I deviated from my sleep schedule and started staying up late, I, and pardon my French, fucked myself. My mental health declined, I stopped caring about attendance, and my overall demeanour switched. A zombie had overtaken my life, and I didn’t know how to get rid of it. I still, to this day, haven’t fully separated from zombie Liv.
Third Year. Finally.
I made myself one promise when I got to third year. Do. Not. Stay. Up. Too. Late. And, so far, I’ve stuck to it. Other than a few clubbing nights, or nights when I just couldn’t sleep, I’ve been better. But recently, I’ve accidently slipped back into old habits. I don’t want to stay up late, I put my phone down at 11pm and snuggle into bed. An hour passes, nothing. Three hours pass, nothing. Six hours later I’m staring at my ceiling begging for one ounce of sleep, and maybe in another hour, give or take, I’ll finally fall asleep. It’s not clubbing or trauma that is keeping me awake this time, no. IT’S THE STRESS OF THIRD YEAR. Someone, please, give me a break.
If I had any advice for you readers, no matter how old you are, please stick to a sleep schedule. Don’t let others sway you into staying awake, please prioritise sleep! You really don’t understand the importance of it until it’s gone…