Sometimes, my head gets heavy. A fog weighing me down, blurring the horizon. I would laugh at my ability to sleep for 13 hours. Wake up at 2 pm. Skip class. Not eat. "I was up too late. Hanging out." I would say. I didn't like to commit to things. There was no way to know how I would feel that day, and if I would have to cancel cause the anxiety would sting so bad. The task of putting my feet on the ground and making my bed became something I learned to let myself celebrate.