My life is jetlagged.
Fourteen hours. It's your night suddenly becoming day, while you have no idea what's going on in a plane. Fourteen hours is gaining or losing a day, arriving in the United States one hour earlier than the time you left. Fourteen hours. Any little trick to deal with it means either sleep deprivation or excessive sleep and headache.
There is no precise guessing of when the melatonin secretion is scheduled in your brain. Snap, you're out. You cannot fall asleep, but you cannot stop yourself yawning. Closing your eyes don't help, but opening your eyes is terribly difficult. You're awake, then you're not. You're up at 6 AM, asleep at 9 PM, up until 3 AM. You know that you're jetlagged.
Knowing that you're not yourself.
It is hard to sharply pick up on how you are feeling. The little chemical and hormonal imbalances probably shape the tracks in which the neuronal electric signals will travel. Most of the times the psychology is subtle. The little irritation at that guy who stared at you. And you might never think about how you normally wouldn't have taken it so offensively. Oh, how I am so trapped in my body.
Being jetlagged is a stark example of how you are so completely not yourself. "I am jetlagged." So please, I beg for your understanding. I beg you to understand how I can be inattentive, insensitive, unresponsive-- just as much as usual, I guess, but I am jetlagged. I know that I am, I know what the consequences are, I am feeling them right now, and I cannot correct them. Self-conscious and yet a little irresponsible. But foremost helpless. So just understand me, understand me.
That might be how I am most of the time. Jetlagged.
Fourteen hours. It's your night suddenly becoming day, while you have no idea what's going on in a plane. Fourteen hours is gaining or losing a day, arriving in the United States one hour earlier than the time you left. Fourteen hours. Any little trick to deal with it means either sleep deprivation or excessive sleep and headache.
There is no precise guessing of when the melatonin secretion is scheduled in your brain. Snap, you're out. You cannot fall asleep, but you cannot stop yourself yawning. Closing your eyes don't help, but opening your eyes is terribly difficult. You're awake, then you're not. You're up at 6 AM, asleep at 9 PM, up until 3 AM. You know that you're jetlagged.
Knowing that you're not yourself.
It is hard to sharply pick up on how you are feeling. The little chemical and hormonal imbalances probably shape the tracks in which the neuronal electric signals will travel. Most of the times the psychology is subtle. The little irritation at that guy who stared at you. And you might never think about how you normally wouldn't have taken it so offensively. Oh, how I am so trapped in my body.
Being jetlagged is a stark example of how you are so completely not yourself. "I am jetlagged." So please, I beg for your understanding. I beg you to understand how I can be inattentive, insensitive, unresponsive-- just as much as usual, I guess, but I am jetlagged. I know that I am, I know what the consequences are, I am feeling them right now, and I cannot correct them. Self-conscious and yet a little irresponsible. But foremost helpless. So just understand me, understand me.
That might be how I am most of the time. Jetlagged.
Except the drowsy part.
"Nosce te ipsum." How hard it is to fall in love with myself the more I learn about myself.
Mothagesso.
