I meet my first person with Narcolepsy.
My head jerks forward. I fight the sleepiness but my head drops anyway. The cab driver wakes me up to tell me we have arrived at the Denver airport. I smile and thank him.
Yesterday, I tried to get out of bed.. I could not. My body felt like the pit of despair. Quickly, I ran through my reasons to be grateful. I read the poem my Nan gave me. It’s posted at the head of my bed.
Suddenly, my eyes became cloudy. Tears running down my cheeks. The feeling of hope and determination surfaces. I put my headphones on and listen to my morning music.. I message Kendall and my mum to tell them what’s going on. I send them my crying face photo. I talked about my feelings and then my day started like any other day.
Ceramic work and the dedication it evokes has given me a renewed sense of self-confidence. When I am at the wheel, I don't feel tired. I am not fighting off sleep. I am just innocent and me. The clay reflects back an honesty about where I am at that I am unable to see in the mirror. It teaches me self-care, patience, and humility. Without that perspective of self.. I am lost.