Don't Worry, Be Happy.

CONTAINS SENSITIVE (SA) CONTENT & EXPLICIT LANGUAGE ...Enjoy 😊

I wake up in a pool of sweat. My clothes drenched, I rip off my Bob Marley tee shirt and throw it over the door. Like a saggy diaper, it’s hanging in dampness. It reads, “Don’t worry, be happy.” The irony… Is this some type of twisted humor from the universe? Because if it’s meant to be a comforting divine message of encouragement, it’s not. I’m not enthused or comforted right now. It feels more like a cruel joke.

Incessant, relentless yawning every five minutes naturally amplifies the teary eyes. Leaking from both corners of both eyes, tears roll down my face. I’m dabbing with tissues nonstop, to the point of raw irritation. Wiping sweat off my forehead and upper lip, I feel overheated and flushed. The next second I’m shivering. Goosebumps erupt across my arms. I Throw on layers now because my body can’t seem to get right. And perfect timing—cue the runny nose to join the rebellion. Before you know it, it’s a symphony of sickness. Leaking profusely from every possible orifice. I tear through half a box of tissues trying to keep up.

Restless legs and involuntary knee-jerk kicks shift my attention long enough to distract me from the waterworks for a moment. I’m crawling out of my skin. As in, if I could somehow rip myself out of this bodysuit without actually dying, I would. Honestly though, death sounds easier than this. This agonizing, drawn-out pain is absolute torture. Call me crazy, but I’d rather give birth three times in one day than go through this nightmare. It's impossible to describe to someone who's never felt it.

I secretly prayed for a car accident that would put me in a coma so I could wake up normal, healthy, and reset - free of the 300-pound monkey on my back. I suppose from the outside looking in that sounds morbid, very dark emo—but unfortunately, pain rearranges your morals, and that’s the God’s honest truth and the intensity of it. We all have our own personal hell. I don’t know… maybe this is my lesson in life. But I’m ready to throw in the towel. Maybe I’m not meant to make it out alive. Maybe that’s my fate.

Here I go with these doom-and-gloom, woe-is-me streams of thought on repeat like a broken record. The mind, they say, is your greatest enemy. Well, this bitch must hate me. Because she whispers that I was never meant to outrun this. That maybe this is the shape my life was always meant to take.

I catch my reflection in the mirror and really get a glimpse of the weak shell of my former self I’ve regressed into. Horrified at what I see looking back at me—pale, hunched over, rocking back and forth as if I’ve forgotten how to exist inside my own body. How did it come to this? A pathetic excuse for a human being.

Get up. Snap out of it. You’ve spent far too long down the rabbit hole.

I stand up. I stretch out. I pace the room, anything to exhaust my body and hopefully shake off this restlessness. I only make it a few laps before—

⚡ ZAP!

Whoa.

A sharp wave of dizziness. Lightheaded. The room tilt. Seeing tiny white stars in my peripherals. Suddenly my legs turn to Jell-O, unable to withstand the weight of my body any longer. My knees buckle. I can’t catch myself. I drop to the floor, watching it happen in slow motion.

I lay there for a moment to catch my breath. It’s been a while since I’ve just laid still. In solitude. Actually being present. Taking in my surroundings. Even from the ground, I’m seeing things from a different angle. From the filth, it’s clear that chores haven’t been a priority—but to be fair, neither have I. Letting myself go. I feel as disgusting as this carpet.

Wow. What a view. The dirty rug and I. One in the same. Same condition. Same neglect. Perspective is strange like that, and perspective is everything. It’s wild how life works. How drastically things can change on you. Never imagining this to be my life. What unforgivable, ludicrous, awful actions did I commit in a past life to warrant this karmic predicament? I truly can’t wrap my head around the why. The greater purpose of it all—if anything. Enduring this miserable existence. How to escape it. How to break free from the chains that have bound me. It’s stolen the vibrant spirit within me. Dimmed my once radiant light.

So what’s the lesson I’m meant to learn? Please tell me.

I’m dying to know. Both figuratively and literally.

I don’t know how much longer I can schlep through this. I can’t even think about how many years I’ve been in survival mode. Haven’t I wasted enough time in this lifestyle?

Speaking of time—how long have I been down here now?

I check my new smartwatch I just bought, mainly for the health-tracking features. But I can barely see the time, let alone figure out my blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels. All on this tiny screen. If only it could help me now. The irony.

I squint harder. 11:11. Usually I’d say, “Eleven eleven, make a wish!” But I need more than a wish. A prayer. A miracle. Anything.

I know I’m going through it on this rollercoaster of unhealthy symptoms, but I don’t think blurred vision is one of them. I squint again, double-checking the time.

Yup. 11:11.

But surely this can’t be real.

It’s not my eyes, so it must be my mind sabotaging me again. Ruthless. And I thought karma was a bitch. Strong contenders.

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them wide to make sure this isn’t some mirage.

And then I see it.

Half-hidden near the leg of the bed. Clear plastic. Folded tight. Could it be? Did the universe actually hear my prayer and throw me a bone? Correction. A lifeboat.

I push myself upright. Neither my eyes nor my mind have deceived me. It’s real. I crawl toward it slowly, like it might disappear if I move too fast. My fingers tremble with anticipation. The moment it enters, the relief is almost holy.

My heart flutters. My stomach twists. The warmth spreads over me like sunlight melting ice.

The shaking stops. The yawning stops. My nose clears. Muscles unclench. The world softens.

The noise goes quiet. My body, for the first time in what feels like forever, is still. Completely still. Peace washes over me completely. Gratitude blooms - ugly, misplaced, overwhelming.

The ceiling above me blurs at the edges. Sound stretches and warps, like it's traveling through water. The smartwatch screen glows faintly beside my hand.

11:12.

The Bob Marley shirt sways gently on the door.

Don’t worry, be happy.

The room grows softer.

Quieter.

Darker.

And then—