I’ve always struggled to get out of bed. Life beyond the covers seemed dreadful because it was chilly, vertical, and full of minor inconveniences, such as no milk in the fridge and other people. Lying down, I could simply exist. My day couldn’t get off to a bad start if I refused to start it. I couldn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed if I stayed snoozing.
I wanted to be the kind of person to seize the day instead of lying in bed for hours. I tried keeping my phone on the other side of the room, so I would have to get out of bed to fetch it. But I would simply retrieve it and scurry back into my warm cocoon. My flatmates were instructed to shove me out of bed – that didn’t work either, I just shouted at them. Some mornings, small sips of Red Bull while I was still under the covers were the only thing that finally got me up.
I’ve often wondered how it got to this. Perhaps it had to do with my attention deficit hyperactivity disorder diagnosis, or that my Indian mother used to wake me up for school by wordlessly turning the big lights on and tearing the sheets off me. Or perhaps I was just lazy.
But that all changed when I found out about the 3-2-1 method. The trick is to count down out loud, quickly, and leap out of bed on “one”. No countdowns from 200, and you can’t draw out the numbers slowly.
My mornings have been transformed. After the short shock of getting out of bed so quickly, I can now make my coffee slowly – I used to have to skip it altogether when I was in a rush. At noon, I can smugly look back on all the things I’ve done that morning, even if they are as simple as reading the news thoroughly or wearing an outfit I feel confident in, rather than throwing on whatever was closest. I no longer wake up just in time for my first appointment – I now do it early enough to have some time to myself. I’m still not a morning person, but I feel much more productive.
There have been times, of course, that I’ve been tempted to ignore the countdown and stay in bed. But the more times I thought this, the more I would feel a scathing sense of embarrassment. My mother was no longer jolting me awake – so why couldn’t I listen to my own voice, trust I was acting in my own best interest, and get up?
I realised that the only thing I hate more than not being in bed is feeling as if I don’t have any willpower. I’ve regained the early hours of the day and a sense of control over my own life. I know now that not every morning will be perfect, but they all must be lived.
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