And I do feel fine! I mean, as fine as I’ve been feeling, which is a lot more run-down than I would have expected to feel at nineteen. Despite the fact that I keep sleeping in longer and longer and, apparently, now just passing out randomly, I’m still inexplicably exhausted. Maybe writing down all my thoughts in the middle of the night isn’t all that helpful.

Enormous trees stretched their branches over me like a loving canopy, their roots floating above pristine, glittering, blue-green water. The smell of salt and pine filled the air, even though there wasn’t an evergreen in sight. I glided over the water, watching it ripple underneath me, and I felt like I was barely touching the air, skimming weightless and free.

Flowers blossomed up from the tree roots, sending sweet perfume up to me as I flew along. I’ve rarely felt such peace, such calm understanding. I was contented but still curious, moving forward to something exciting and glorious. A light shone bright in the distance, reflecting off the water of the horizon, and I felt as if the water must be cascading down the side of the earth, falling into the sun, mixing with its beams to create warm, swimmable light. I moved swiftly through the trees, out onto the open water, closer and closer to the light, ready to touch it, knowing it wouldn’t burn me and knowing that, when I did make contact, I would finally understand.

But before I got there I suddenly did understand—I was dreaming, I was somewhere deep inside my mind, or somewhere else entirely … but that light … if I just kept soaring toward that distant horizon, everything would come into sharp focus, the dream would be mine again and then—

I woke up.

I don’t remember ever … waking up inside a dream before. Is this what lucid dreaming is?

I know I should go downstairs, eat breakfast, start the day. I slept right through my alarm, again, wanting to stay forever in that breathtaking beauty of water and trees. But I could feel consciousness encroaching back on me, the water underneath me starting to ripple away, the horizon growing dim. I feel tired and heavy, and like if I just stayed in that place, flying through that world, I’d figure out how to finally get some rest.

AUGUST 29TH, 2016

“Skate to work today,” she said. “You’ll be glad you did,” she said.

I wonder, did she have a vision of me sitting in urgent care with what feels like a broken wrist? Because that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Sitting in a cold plastic chair in an overly air-conditioned waiting room, writing with my one remaining good hand (thank GOD I’m a leftie), trying to keep my mind off the heinous amount of pain shooting through my right wrist at the moment.