Sweet sleep
I periodically wake up in the dead of the night still surprised that it’s not yet morning. I glance across my shoulder and play my favourite guessing game: is it 2 am or is it 2:15 am?
My ears prick up to the sound of nothingness. My eyes search the different textures of pitch-black emptiness. I like to be sure that it’s just another dreadful morning.
I am alone in the middle of the night and truth be told, pretty much all the time. Even when surrounded by my co-workers, it’s only me that has to project sunny optimism; that even when everything is failing, it is somehow still part of the plan. “We will win, no, we must win”. Whispers to self; “we will win, no, we must win.”
When I am thrust into a room of other entrepreneurs, the multitude all fade to black and all I feel is alone. I am the only one who knows the truth behind my confidence bluff. No, I am really not ‘killing it’. I am actually afraid of failing my ever-increasing team and so no, I am not ‘excited’ at how (seemingly) fast the business is growing. Like a sheep dressed as a wolf, I am hoping I can make it out without being revealed for what I really am.
As I lay on my bed, I stare up into the darkness and will myself to get up. ‘The show must play on!’ In a few hours, I am going to stroll into the office and project nothing but enthusiasm and prophetic vision. I see it in their eyes when they look at me; we both know that I can’t possibly predict the future, but they so desperately want me to give them something to believe in. I too need them to keep believing so that I have a reason to get out of this bed and fight a war I can’t possibly win. And so this pathetic symbiosis continues.
I try to fall asleep again but sleep won’t keep me company either. Anxiety rises slowly and surely until I can no longer hold it in any longer. I reach for my phone and brace myself. The light momentarily blinds me as I cradle the source of all my discontent. I pause and look at the e-mail icon. Behind this innocuous icon lies a never-ending stream of anxiety. Perhaps I’ll open it to find that another investor has ‘declined the opportunity to partner in our story’ and so salaries will be delayed. Indefinitely. Or maybe, my board has finally decided to let me go and hire a more competent CEO ‘for this stage’ of the business. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll find nothing but mundane updates; wouldn’t that be a treat? No news is good news. My inbox is like a box of chocolates; you never know just how bad the next one is going to be.
My alarm breaks the monotony of my sombre morning ritual. It’s 3:30 am. Perfect. Time to get up and put this sleeplessness to good use. My running gear lies waiting in the darkness. If I am lucky, I’ll run myself into comatose exhaustion and maybe wake up an hour later at 3 am tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be just the sweetest sleep ever?!
