If you value my contributions to your world, you will not wake me before 11am.
Sometimes I will choose to awaken earlier. This is very different from your intrusive attempts to normalise my circadian rhythms. Yes, part of the soup that is CFIDS/FM/WTF happens to be a weird relationship with sleep. Yes, I’ve done a sleep study. No, nobody understands what’s going on any more than we did before.
I can fall asleep naturally sometime before dawn and sleep my required 10-14 hours (!) with little effort unless you are interfering in which case I will awaken, jet-lagged, foggy as hell, and kind of nauseated. Compound this with the foul mood that comes not from sleep deprivation but from the knowledge that less sleep means my body will force me to make it up later, during the hours I was planning to use today for writing. Whoops.
Barging into my room to inform me, stridently, that THE BEDSHEETS ARE RIGHT THERE, YOU CAN USE THEM ANYTIME is not the same as leaving me a polite note, the latter action being one I have voiced as A Brilliant Idea. Leaving me notes lets me get around to your additions to my to-do list when I am able to do so. Making the bed is an energy-sapper for me under the best circumstances. Nope, not hopping out of said bed to change the sheets on your schedule. — Who the hell barges into other people’s bedrooms before they’re awake, I’d like to know? Mainly so I can order you to run fifty laps around my house and clean up your own damn puke after. Then you have to fight the urge to nap. You’ll hurt, but hey, I’m just trying to help! Right? Right?!
Ditto texting me reminders. That’s noise. I wake very easily, remember? Use notes. On paper. Even in science fiction, there is paper. Paper is polite. Paper is quiet.
And God help you if you tell me you’re trying to help me, because you are Not Helping. You are making things worse. The plethora of scents from your morning ablutions has not yet dissipated, so on top of the nausea that comes from sleep deprivation, I also have to cope with smells that get up my nose and make me wish I had no olfactory nerve. Stupid chemical stink everywhere.
So thank you so much for ensuring I will nap later, caffeine not being an option because I had plans to leave the house. Thank you for waking me so thoroughly that I couldn’t just turn over and go back to sleep. Thank you, and oh, this is the best, for completely disregarding my previous polite requests. I guess I’ve seen how far those will get me!
No love. No love at all.