The one with things to do and the one who is tired, talking in bed

23:50. I have been lying in bed for fifteen minutes, my phone face down on my chest. Downstairs, twelve boxes of dried fruit are still waiting for their tape, and the smell of cardboard drifts all the way up to the bedroom. The tin roof over the porch ticks with the dew, and inside my head, two voices begin talking to each other.

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: Twelve orders not packed. The courier comes at nine tomorrow. I could get up early and pack them, but what if I oversleep?

The-Tired-One: I just lay down. My legs feel like they're wearing stones. Let me lie here a little longer, please don't make me stand up again.

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: I'm not making you. I'm only reminding you. The day before yesterday we said "tomorrow" too, and the orders went out a day late, and customers sent three messages asking where their fruit was.

The-Tired-One: I remember those three messages. I'm not saying it didn't feel bad to get them. But if I go down now, I'll stick the wrong label on a box and write the wrong address. The time I shipped to the wrong ward was also close to midnight.

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: Then if I don't do it, who will? No one. The orders sit there, the customers wait, and tomorrow morning I run.

The-Tired-One: I know. But do the sums for me. How much work does one wrong label cost to fix, compared with the fifteen minutes I'd get back tomorrow?

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: I can't work it out. I'm just scared. Scared that unpacked boxes turn into a mountain by morning.

The-Tired-One: I'm scared too. Scared I'll wake up tomorrow feeling just as heavy as I do now, and stand there taping boxes while my hands won't listen.

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: Oh.

The-Tired-One: We're afraid of the same thing, aren't we? That tomorrow I won't have enough strength.

A quiet stretch. The tin roof keeps ticking, and somewhere a dog barks twice and stops. I can hear my own breathing, a little slower than a moment ago, though I could not say when it slowed.

The-One-With-Things-To-Do: So tomorrow I'll message the courier. Ask whether they can come an hour late. If they say no, I'll get up early.

The-Tired-One: Okay. Message them tomorrow. And if you're still worried, go ahead and worry, I won't tell you to be quiet. I'm only asking to lie here.

That night I stayed awake a little longer. The two voices did not vanish, they only grew smaller, like two people sitting in a dark room, no longer talking but neither one getting up to leave. I do not know when I fell asleep. I only remember that the next morning the twelve boxes were still there, and I packed them faster than I had feared.

When to see a doctor

This conversation is only one way of listening to two voices in your head as you lie down. It cannot replace an examination, and it does not promise that the next night will be a good one.

If you have trouble sleeping on many nights each week, it goes on for a few weeks, or you feel clearly foggy during the day, especially when driving or at work, it is worth seeing a doctor. The same goes if someone who sleeps beside you notices loud snoring or what looks like stopped breathing, or if worry and sadness keep going and will not ease.

If there are moments when you think about hurting yourself, do not wait. Tell someone you trust today. The Emergency Support page explains what holds true in moments like that.

Seeing a doctor about sleep is not making a fuss. It is one way of looking after the person who still has boxes to pack in the morning.

This article was created with AI assistance.