Tomorrow is World Sleep Day, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
I’ve struggled with insomnia since 2012. And even before that, as a child, sleep was something I was never very good at. Back then, teachers and professionals and doctors would say it was just a phase, and even my mum suggested many times that it would get better when I was older. Fun fact, it hasn’t. I know now that she meant a lot older, say in my fifties. But if I follow my mother’s trend, then even that estimate isn’t looking good, for my mum is in her seventies and has worse insomnia than me.
I have my tricks, and sometimes they work. These include:
- No coffee after 5pm.
- Hot chocolates before bed sometimes works.
- T2Tea’s Sweetest Dreams is the best sleepy tea I’ve tried, actually works and tastes nice.
- Making the bed comfy, with pillows and blankets. Ensuring the room isn’t too hot or too cold – opening windows or turning on fans work best.
- Watching Postman Pat worked for a while.
- Winding down with some smooth jazz.
- Wind down stretches if the joints are an issue.
- Doing some writing before bed, poems, stories, flashes, lists of worries etc.
- Meditations – Tapping Solution’s Fall Asleep Faster is the best. Headspace’s Sleepcasts are also very good.
- Calmer earplugs, to muffle the sound of any noises that might wake me up.
- Medication, if I don’t have the tablets I won’t sleep at all.
- That I can always try again in a half an hour.
But sometimes they don’t. And before you suggest some new sleepy tea or way to journal or sleep tracking app or some new meditation, I’ve probably tried it, or something like it, over the years.
It’s not that I don’t sleep at all. Although, on some really bad nights, then yes that is the case. I just don’t get enough. I never feel rested, just in a constant state of exhaustion, no matter what I do. And in truth, it often gets me down. Because it seems endless, and hopeless, and eternal, and never seems to get any better. Sure there are good patches, where I only wake once a night, or sleep seven hours in a row. But they never last. And it frustrates me, and always has, because it seems so simple, because I should be able to do it, because I know all the health risks it brings, because it leaves me drained.
Recently, I learnt that I have macular dystrophy, a sight loss condition which is neurologically based, and that the insomnia is part of the package. And that has been helping me make my peace with it. At least I know its something I’ve always had, and that I may never get that gold dream of eight hours or nine or ten, unless I’m very unwell. And with all this, I have been learning that I cannot know the future, and can only try to make the most of the present, both with sight loss, and with my other bundles of fun like insomnia. And that helps, a little.
And I guess I’ve become more accepting, of my mind and its many quirks. So if it can’t sleep and needs to write a poem or a flash, I let it. So if it can’t sleep and wants to watch TV, I let it. So if it can’t sleep and wants to list all its worries, I let it. So if it can’t sleep and wants to listen to a book, I let it. So if it can’t sleep and wants to churn over a meeting, I let it.
This approach isn’t easy, but I’m learning. Its often hard to shift all these years of frustration and anxiety, but I’m working on it. Tomorrow, I plan to celebrate the sleep I get, instead of worrying about the amount I don’t. And maybe that’s enough.
