As I saw the time illuminate through the screen of my phone, my heart fell.
12:48 a.m.
I had crawled into my warm, inviting bed almost five hours earlier with the intentions of getting a good night of rest, but I hadn’t slept a wink. I tried everything. Laying on my side. My back. My stomach. Fan off, fan on. One pillow, two pillows. Ben Howard, Oasis, even the soothing sounds of Bon Iver couldn’t relax me.
What was keeping me awake? I should be exhausted. After all, we ran sprints at ultimate frisbee practice earlier that day. I couldn’t think of anything, until a little voice crept up on me and gave me a hint.
You didn’t study enough, Darci. You’re going to fail both of your tests tomorrow. It’s only 10:20. You still have some time to cram.
I gave in to the voice. I pulled out my notes and switched my brain back into perfection mode. Failure was not an option. It never has been. The bar I have set for myself is unattainable, and I am very aware of that, yet I constantly trade my mental and physical health for stress and sleep deprivation.
Because I’ll never be able to achieve my outlandish goals, I am constantly dissatisfied with myself. I earned a 98 on one of my finals, which should be an incredible achievement and a reflection of my hard work. But instead I spent the long weekend in between semesters trying to jog my memory of test questions in order to determine how I could have made a perfect score. With every little victory I have to subconsciously move the bar higher and higher. It’s a vicious cycle. Nothing will ever be good enough for me.
My fight with not being good enough peaked sophomore year, and Algebra II became my nemesis. I panicked because my grade was heartbreakingly low for my standards. The only logical explanation I could think of was that I wasn’t trying hard enough. I began going into my teacher’s room every single morning for tutoring, and if we were assigned the odd-numbered problems, I did the even numbers as well. Despite my efforts, nothing seemed to be working. My grade rose slightly over time, but I still wasn’t happy.
After months of unhappiness I realized it was okay to not be great at everything and it was exhausting always trying to be. Sleep is more important than stress and late night cramming.
It’s been almost a year since my realization but it’s still a constant battle. Between AP U.S. History, AP English III, newspaper and AP Physics II in one semester, my obsessive academic efforts have proven victorious over sleep on more than one occasion.
One night, about two months ago, I snuck downstairs after both my parents went to bed to retrieve my Physics binder for another late night cram session. As I picked up the blue binder I realized if I didn’t know the material I had spent a week studying for, I would never learn it. I put the binder back into my backpack and got a good night of rest for the first time all semester. I woke up without a headache the next morning and received a score on my test that actually met my expectations.
That day I challenged myself to accept the little victories for what they were. They were victories, not an excuse to nitpick imperfections to see how else I could improve. Sure, fixing bad habits is an uphill battle, but taking accomplishable baby steps helps. Planning out my entire week ahead of time helps to visualize where I will have extra time to fit in personal projects or get ahead on homework. I reward myself with a “sleep day” every week where I don’t get out of bed until the last moment possible.
I will probably struggle with being too ambitious and a perfectionist my entire life but I’m learning that it’s okay to take a nap every once in a while.
