In 2023, during the worst of my mental health crises I wrote a poem about Forks. To this day that poem remains my best literary work. It was a personal venture into a parody of The Spoon Theory. The Spoon Theory is the idea that those living with chronic illness have a finite amount of energy they can exert in a day. Different actions use bits of that energy, or spoons from a reserve. Different days will start with varying amounts of spoons, dependent on the symptom intensity on that day. My fork poem played on that theory but used forks as a metaphor for decision making in day-to-day life while living with mental health challenges. A play on a fork in the road, my fork drawer was filled with thousands of forks, some good, some bad, all decisions that would lead me to a different set of forks for the next “meal”.

**

I don’t need this many forks, I’m just one person.

Once I touch a fork it’s like the whole world pushes me to put it back in the drawer

“don’t do that one, it’ll just make the meal difficult, and life harder to chew”

and this repeats with all the forks on top.

I hear myself thinking back, screaming back “just pick a damn fork and use it”

I don’t even think about the knives, they could make things easier, probably.

And maybe the forks on the bottom are a better fit for this unnamed meal in front of me but I don’t think of them, 

I never think of them until I’ve already picked a fork and I try and use it but it’s too hot and burns my tongue or it falls on the floor and I don’t have the energy to pick it up.

Not the fork’s fault, not mine.

I leave the fork on the floor, I put the food in the fridge, I’ll pick a different fork tomorrow, and I go to bed hungry.

~ Excerpt from Fork Drawer by Aloe Sanders

**

The Greek personification of sleep, Hypnos, has played a minor but fascinating role in greek literature. He can be seen as a servant of Hera, doing her bidding by lulling the likes of Zeus and Heracles into deep slumber. He is the calm that follows Selene, later Artemis, across the sky, as they pull the moon and the night behind them. He is the son of Nyx (Night) and the brother of Thanatos (Death). His name brought forth modern english words like Hypnosis and Hypnotics.

**

“[Ariadne laments her fate after being abandoned in her sleep by Theseus on Naxos] ‘Give me again, Hypnos (Sleep), your empty boon, so pleasant; send me another delectable dream like that, so that I may know the sweet bed of love in a deceptive dream! Only linger upon my eyes, that I may know the unreal passion of married love in a dream!’”

From the Dionysiaca, written in the early 5^th century CE by Nonnos of Panopolis, known to be one of the longest surviving poems from Greco-Roman history.

**

I was diagnosed with narcolepsy in January of 2024. Years of constant mental health struggles, sleep issues, and job losses eventually led me to pursue sleep testing and diagnosis. I was exhausted constantly and found little enjoyment in my hobbies, work, or school. I felt waves of sleep wash over me from the moment I woke up, hours after my alarms went off, crashing into me towards the late afternoon, which by then it was nearing bedtime again. I would wake from naps I didn’t know I was taking feeling cold and more tired. I found it hard to maintain relationships with my family and friends, feeling as though I couldn’t even maintain a healthy relationship with myself. At night I would lie awake, the ocean of sleep I couldn’t contain during the day, would suddenly be a beaming hot desert. The night would be well underway by the time I found traces of that ocean again. The cycle continued for years, worsening drastically before I finally caved and sought an explanation. After rigorous sleep testing I was diagnosed with Narcolepsy. The diagnosis led me to medication, routine, and happier, more energetic days. I was able to keep the manageable sea of sleep consistent and stable. The tides were smaller, and I felt stronger.  I had my down moments of course, days when my spoons were less than the day before, and the tides picked up, but ultimately narcolepsy was manageable for me. 

**

At night, sometimes I wonder if he has forgotten me, Hypnos, guiding darkness to beds, quieting minds and lulling to sleep. He has a backwards sort of power over me. When he lulls me to sleep at all the wrong times, I think maybe he’s gifted me his favor, in some twisted way. I relate to a minor character in a series I’ve read, A son of Hypnos who can control dreams and puts others to sleep, but who is constantly sleeping himself. There is a reason he doesn’t show up much, you miss the action when you can’t stop sleeping.

**

Dreams have often been a difficult place for me. I can’t always decipher reality from dreams, waking up in states of confusion because I lived through a bad day at work without even leaving my bed. Or dreaming entire days where my eyes are slightly closed. I’d notice immediately when I started to fly above my neighborhood, but not when a person I was talking to suddenly morphed into a completely different person. Sometimes I feel like sleep is my superpower, like BBC Sherlock Holmes’ Mindpalace, a place I retreat to. Unlike Sherlock, I have very little control over this escape, and more often it controls me. Most nights I dread sleep, not for the dreams, but the inevitable inability to escape them come morning. I dream I am waking up, only to discover the dream continues, my body pushes for the dream to play on, as if it’s a movie I can’t stop watching until the credits roll. As I reach a waking point, I start to have the ability to mould my dreams, as if I am the director in the movie I cannot escape. Suddenly, and without warning, the sequel begins, pinning me into place for another hour or so. It could be called sleep paralysis, though there is hardly a demon and my mind seems to enjoy being stuck. Sometimes I can pause the movie, get up and stumble to the bathroom with my eyes half shut, subconsciously planning parts of the film as I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and fall back onto my pillow. The camera rolls, and the dream continues.

**

Though I experience less of my previous mental health challenges these days, I am still drawn back to the Fork Drawer. I can apply it to life outside of mental health, opening my perspective where I previously thought I was alone in experience. I still tell myself to “pick a damn fork and use it” but with kinder force and encouragement. I don’t shame myself for temporary inabilities. I apply forks to my chronic health conditions now, decisions I must make to better myself, or better my environment. Though it seems silly, I can pick multiple forks now too, a full table setting for the twelve course meal that is my day. A fork falls on the floor, and it’s ok, I have my salad fork to use instead. Especially convenient considering I don’t eat salad. Now when faced with these meals, the forks I consider must be the best for my health and my sleep, I choose to go home early, or plan for morning classes, all so my sleep health stays scheduled and consistent. I can’t necessarily see the future, but when I prioritize my wellbeing, I see a more attainable future, a deeper understanding of my strange relationship with the God of Sleep, and a more organized Fork Drawer.