I dream of better days.

I miss my life. I miss randomly biking to wherever my day takes me. I miss coffee shops and milk tea and errands and samgyup. I miss beer pong and alcohol and all of my friends. I miss roadtrips and plane rides and heading to the beach and feeling the sun burn my skin. And I miss you. Damn, do I miss you.

The past three weeks (has it only been three weeks?) have been a seemingly endless routine of sleepless nights, two-hour naps, binge-eating, forced workouts, mindless work, and intense anxiety.

I can't tell which days are which anymore and my body clock has never been this messed up. I sometimes stay up for 48 hours or more simply because sleep refuses to visit me, no matter how much I focus my thoughts onto the task or how long I keep my eyes closed.

I used to drink to fall asleep, but I haven't been drinking lately. I haven't been drinking because drinking on my own makes me feel miserable. Also, it's unhealthy, and I'm trying to lead a healthier lifestyle. A healthier lifestyle without sleep. Right.

Don't get me wrong. I have bouts of happiness throughout the day - when I get to mindlessly gossip with my best friend, when I get an unexpected sweet text message, and when I'm on the phone laughing with you. You have the knack of keeping bad thoughts away.

But eventually, I am left alone with my thoughts again, and things are different. I wish I could explain it better. I wish I could explain it, period. But I can't.

All I know is that I constantly find my mind in conflict: desperately wanting to sleep but not wanting to resort to alcohol to find peace. I find myself staring at my little pink pills from the corner of my eye while I mindlessly read a book, part of me longing to take one and the other not wanting to depend on it.

I am proud to say that I am able to resist the urge to pop a pill more often than not; but this week alone, I have taken one twice. I have groggily awoken to the familiar slower yet stronger heartbeat in my chest - which I savored with every staggered breath - only to fall back into a dreamless stupor. And each time, I was knocked out for at least half a day, only to awaken to yet another meaningless cycle of quarantine life.

I feel like the further into this quarantine I get, the further I am falling into old bad habits. I find no joy in working out anymore. I find myself mindlessly grabbing a piece of bread or a slice of cake pretty often. And then another. And another.

Though I know this quarantine is for the betterment of this country and for the safety of its citizens; I, for one, am not okay. Maybe it's just a phase. Maybe this is what an episode looks like in quarantine. But I dream and I hope for better days. I dream and I hope to be okay again.

How are you guys coping? What have you been doing to stay sane?