There are times when sleep is a warm, safe place. A reset button. A pause from everything.
But other times—if I’m being honest—sleep is where I go to hide.
Not from monsters.
Not from the world.
But from myself.
I recently sat with a series of reflection questions about why I retreat to sleep when I feel bored, unclear, or overwhelmed. What came out of that quiet, foggy space was something I didn’t expect—a slow unraveling of deeper truths I hadn’t fully faced before.
So I’m sharing that reflection here—not because I’ve figured it all out, but because I think maybe we can figure it out together.
🌘 What emotion am I trying to avoid right now?
It might be emptiness, or maybe just the fog.
Sometimes I don’t give myself enough time to fully wake up—mentally or emotionally. Like trying to drive a frozen car without letting the engine warm up. Other times, it’s boredom. I struggle to find the right challenge—something engaging but not overwhelming. So I drift.
🌘 What do I believe would happen if I stayed awake and faced this moment?
Weirdly… I might actually get a spark.
Like I did when I started writing this. My mind woke up. I became aware again.
But too often, I give in before that spark can happen.
I look for a life of highs and forget that most of life is lived in the quiet, in-between spaces.
I stall. I wait. And sleep feels like an escape from the monotony.
🌘 What am I lacking in this moment that sleep seems to offer me?
Comfort. Relief. Silence. Peace. Permission to pause.
Sleep is where I escape the dullness I helped create. I dream of big, cinematic worlds—like watching blockbusters starring someone who isn’t me.
Dream-me lives a life I sometimes feel too disconnected to live when I’m awake.
🌘 Is this act of sleeping helping me reset, or is it helping me hide?
Lately?
It’s hiding.
Not from tasks or responsibilities, but from my own existence. From my own potential. From truths I’m not ready to fully look at yet.
🌘 What part of my life do I feel most disconnected from right now?
Creativity. Relationships. Purpose. Joy.
All of it, in some way.
I run from the joy of creating. I hold myself back from others—convinced I’m a burden, even when they offer help.
I lose the words when I try to explain what I feel, especially in therapy.
But I also know:
“I am more than what I allow myself to be. I may be lost, but I am not without worth.”
🌘 What would I be doing if I wasn’t afraid of doing it badly?
Just… living.
Watching a show, playing a game, creating something, anything.
I even hide from things I used to love.
And maybe—deep down—I still feel like I need someone’s permission to exist.
🌘 What truth about myself or my life am I not ready to face?
“That I have value. That I have worth without someone telling me that I do.”
That line lingers.
I often seek value through others. I fear being selfish. But maybe the most selfish thing I do is not giving myself permission to live.
Maybe what I need to face is that it’s okay to take up space. To rest. To be.
To stop hiding from life and start participating in it—even slowly, even imperfectly.
💭 Still a Work in Progress
I’m not here with answers, just questions.
And maybe that’s the most honest thing I can offer right now.
I don’t think this is a journey anyone finishes overnight—or maybe ever. But putting these words out there feels like the first step toward living instead of escaping.
If anything I wrote here resonates with you, I hope it helps you feel a little less alone.
So I ask you:
What are you hiding from—and what might happen if you chose, just once, to stay awake instead?