It started with me staying up late, being on my phone. Then when I tried to sleep, I couldn't. But finally I probably did because when I woke up and wanted to go tell my dad my eyes can't rest, I managed to lose my mind. With me attempting to turn on the light switch, I thought I just got up too fast, but I felt really dizzy. I remember accidentally spitting on the floor and trying to clean it with my sleeve. My vision was a washmachine and my legs joined. I couldn't feel my hands and couldn't move my fingers. I was definitely sure I hit the light switch then, but still nothing happened. I assumed it was some kind of electricity problem because I heard my brother, who was supposed to be sleeping. I tried to help myself by leaning on the bed, but I only made it worse, maybe I even fell off. It all happened so quickly and, for me, chaotically. Then my father walked in with a bucket and a rag. I must’ve had puked. Imagine how I was. Sitting warped on the floor next to the bed surrounded by utterly disgusting stomach acids, half-sleeping half-crying, not being able to recognize the truth.