My sleep schedule is fragmented. As soon as I wake, I’m already 3 hours from being asleep again.
Often, my mornings are spent in bed. I think I’m an owl (or a late-chronotype). The nighttime is when my day begins.
On the other end, a lark (or an early-chronotype), would argue that the day begins right before sunrise, or before noon.
Then there’s the third group, the more common, the hummingbirds. This is the group most people fall into.
I’m somewhere in the mix fluctuating from sunrise to noon to midnight, dipping in and out of consciousness at random intervals, bursting with hopeful glee then drowning in despair the next. Similar to my depression and joy, a schedule is unreliable, I never know when I’ll be one or the other.
Progression is a key player in the fight against my depression. For me, progress is when I publish. If done consistently, it ignites momentum. A step forward and a step backward can have the same effect. Whether that be good or bad.
Either way, I am no longer in the same position.
Time is forever moving, with or without us. The question is, is it passing you by or are you moving with it?