Dear Jessica Brennan,
It is 5:30 AM, and I am up, showered, coffee in hand and writing this blog. I couldn’t be happier because I spent the last several hours trying to fall asleep. That pressure is now gone.
Sleep is indeed essential to good health. I am aware of this fact, and I gave it my all last night. I even took a sleeping pill, yet here is how it unfolded.
9:30 PM – Get into a toasty, comfy bed with Dad and watch “The Bear” on Disney.
10:30 PM – Watch one more episode.
11:00 PM – I put my head down to fall asleep.
11:15 PM – Come on, Sharon, fall asleep. You have to get up at 5 AM to write before work.
Midnight – If I fall asleep now, I can sleep for five whole hours.
1:00 AM – Hi Jinx. Aw, good boy. Stop standing on my hair, please. Lie down. If I fall asleep now, I will get 4 hours of sleep. Not too bad.
1:05 AM – Did I fall asleep? The car lights look nice when they sweep across the ceiling. Look at how huge the light fixture looks in the shadow, Jinx. I wonder if I could get a picture of that. Don’t pick up your phone, Sharon; it’s the kiss of death. (I don’t pick up my phone).
1:10 AM – Dum dee dum
1:30 AM – I think I might have been asleep for twenty minutes. Heart starts to race. Oh, we’re going to have an anxiety attack. This is fun. Heart pounds in ears. Breathe Sharon. Long breaths in and longer breaths out. I wonder what my heart rate is, maybe 50,000 bpm? Breathe.
2:00 AM – Anxiety has begun to subside. I check to make sure I took my anti-anxiety meds before bed. I did. 3 hours of sleep isn’t the end of the world. Come on, Sharon, sleep!
2:10 AM – Oh, hi again, Jinx. You can’t be hungry. You just know I’m awake. Stop meowing; you’ll wake up Jessica’s Dad. Lie down. Don’t bite. It isn’t nice.
3:00 AM – Good, more anxiety. I’ll get 2 hours of sleep if I drop off now. That’s a lot. It takes 2 hours to drive to Toronto. That’s a long time. I can do this.
3:30 AM – Word games. That could work.
3:45 AM – That didn’t work. Maybe a relaxation technique.
4:00 AM – I’m relaxed but not asleep. A whole hour of sleep would help, given that I have to go to work today.
4:14 AM – I hear shouting outside. I get up and look out the window. A woman is standing in the middle of the street screaming down Windsor Ave. to her colleagues. I’m sure she’s likely saying,
“Open every car door and search every porch. Steal everything that isn’t nailed down, except for those stupid stone lions over there where the woman is looking out the window. They’re too heavy.”
4:30 AM – The shouting has stopped, and the anxiety is back. Thump, thump, thump. If I fall asleep now, I will….oh, who am I kidding? Come on, 5 AM.
5:00 AM – Time to get up. Thank goodness.
The more I talk to people about not sleeping, the more I realize that, for some of us, it is our superpower. We can function (or semi-function) in a constant state of jet lag. I do fear the long-term impacts, but short of being put in a medically induced coma, I’m not sure what more the sleep-challenged among us can do.
It is 6:57 AM and still pitch dark outside. I could sleep for Canada now.
Dad doesn’t suffer from a lack of sleep. He sleeps like a baby while I’m counting sheep and implementing as many known-to-work-but-don’t-work tricks as I can. He’s asleep now, and at about 7:15 AM, I will tell him it’s time to get up, and he will mumble something about it being too early. Can’t he just sleep for another hour?
Showoff.
Love,
Mum xo