Sometimes all your body wants is enough sleep.

For the last three months, I’ve been battling major skin issues. I wasn’t sure if it was eczema or bug bites. At one point, I even suspected scabies.

I boiled my sheets (and some of my clothes), cleaned my surroundings, slathered on creams. And yet the ugly red marks remained.

Then on Wednesday when my alarm rang at 7am, I said fuck it, turned it off (instead of snoozing) and went back to sleep. At night, I didn’t set an alarm for the next day.

Three days in a row, I got my eight hours of sleep and I began to notice that the red marks looked less angry, slowly blending back into the background of my skin.

In the last few weeks, I’ve been sleeping at between 3-6am. This is normal, for me. The only difference was that I’d been forcing myself to get out of bed between 7-9am.

There are so many things I want to do and I’ve always seen my body as a vehicle. It’s always been a tool to propel me through the day, a shell my mind lives in.

But that mindset doesn’t work.

When the body has had enough, it finds a way to speak. And eventually, bodily harm hurts the mind as well.

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