It’s been over a week since Sherilyn last slept on her bed. My second-year architecture student daughter has been swamped with back-to-back assignments, and her determination is turning our couch into her bed and her university workshop into her second home. The rigorous demands of her course have left her zombified—sacrificing sleep, meals, and even showers. The workload is relentless, and the toll it’s taking on her is all too evident.
The last time I saw her was yesterday afternoon when she darted home for a quick bite and shower before heading back to university. Tonight, she returned at 9 pm, utterly exhausted.
First, it was an assignment requiring the complicated construction of bamboo structures, which consumed her days and nights. Now, she’s diving headfirst into yet another project, leaving little time for basic necessities like proper meals, showers, and restful sleep.
The most jarring moment came today. Sherilyn returned home around 9 p.m., visibly drained, touchy, and wasn’t in the mood to talk much. As she sat down to eat her dinner and then a Mon Chinese beef roti her grandmother had just bought, she couldn’t even stay awake long enough to finish the roti. Halfway through chewing, she dozed off, the roti almost slipping from her grasp. I quickly woke her up and asked her to keep the roti and to shower. But her body betrayed her willpower and she continued dozing at the table and then moved to the couch to continue sleeping. The sight of her falling asleep while chewing brought a bittersweet wave of déjà vu.
When Sherilyn was around five to six, for more than a year, she had a peculiar habit of sitting at the dining table for hours, struggling to finish her dinner. Perhaps it was her way of seeking my attention. Ever since Cass was born, I diverted my attention to the baby as Cass had some major health issues that needed special care. In Sherilyn’s innocent mind, the baby stole her thunder. Many evenings, she’d fall asleep at the dining table, waking intermittently between 7 pm and 11 pm to continue chewing the food in her mouth. Back then, I was preoccupied with Cass, who was a toddler dealing with urinary tract issues. Sherilyn often clashed with Dyah, our live-in helper, making dinnertime an ongoing struggle. Out of exhaustion and lack of time, I let her be. I was holding two jobs back then – a freelance writing job and selling clothes online.
Now, years later, history seems to repeat itself—but for vastly different reasons. Her chronic sleep deprivation stems not from defiance but from passion and a grueling academic workload. Watching her push herself so hard hurts my heart. I can’t help but question if architecture is truly what she wants, knowing the toll it’s taking on her body and mind. Yet, her answer remains unwavering—a resounding yes.
As a parent, I can only pray for her well-being. I ask God to guide her, grant her physical and mental strength, and protect her health despite these trying times. My fierce, resilient Sherilyn is determined to chase her dreams, and I’ll be here, supporting her every step of the way—even if that means picking up her food and phone from her grasp before she dozes off at the table again.