Insomniac

I can always sleep. Always. It's actually one of the few things I'm really, really good at. I was the child who had to do morning kindergarten because even at age 5, I was still taking a 2-hour afternoon nap. I was the child whose parents tried to keep her awake past 6:30 p.m. by saying things like, "Instead of going to bed now, how about you just lie down on the couch and watch T.V. with us." They tell me I never made it past the national news, which ended at 7:00. If they failed to get me dinner by 6:30, I didn't eat. As an adult, I'm happiest and healthiest when I get about 9-1/2 hours of sleep at night, and I almost always do. Yep, I can always sleep.

Except when I can't. Like tonight. It's now 1:30 a.m., and I've been trying to fall asleep since 10:00. Blah! This is such a rare occurrence that it makes me really mad. Occasionally, when I am super, super stressed, my anxiety sky rockets, and nothing I do seems to help. I am wide awake. It sucks. To those of you who experience this often, you have my utmost sympathy. Of course, rare as these occasions are, they always fall on nights when I have a full list of obligations the following day. So I lie in bed and stress over not only what was keeping me awake in the first place, but also about how I'm going to be too exhausted to function tomorrow. Double blah!

So instead of continuing with that utterly unproductive cycle, I decide to get up and blog. Will I be able to put together a clear thought at this hour when I'm this tired? With no proofreader awake this late, should I wait until morning to post this? I don't know. Oh wait...there is someone awake. It's Isaiah. He's been asleep here on the couch until just now. "You're still up?" he asks, baffled. I am never up this late; remember, I need nine hours of sleep. I explain my very occasional plight with anxiety-induced insomnia and send him off to bed. Now I am perfectly alone.

This house is quiet and dark. The only light, other than from my laptop, comes from the Halloween decoration we have in the window, which I forgot to unplug before going to bed 4 hours ago. Yep, it's 2:00 a.m. now. The quiet is disconcerting. This house, with seven of us living here, is never quiet. I wish I could say it's peaceful, but it isn't. My body is so charged with excess energy that nothing is peaceful. I wonder if Shulamith is awake downstairs. I hope not. I hope Baby Swen (and his mommy) are sound asleep. I wish I could be asleep. I really wish that.

My eyes burn. They know they're supposed to be shut at this hour. I struggle to exercise the relaxation techniques I've learned through many years of dealing with anxiety. It's not working. My mind races regardless, from one topic to another, in circles, over and over. I try to sing a peaceful hymn. I'm distracted. I try to count my blessings. I'm distracted. I try to pray. I'm distracted. I tell myself that sleep will come eventually. It always does. I reassure myself that I will get thorough the day tomorrow, even if I never sleep tonight. My mind needs that reassurance.

Time passes slowly, but then it's already 2:00, so how will I ever get the sleep I so desperately need? The night will be over in just a few more hours. Then what? How will I finish grading my papers, the ones I was too tired to finish earlier? How will I teach my classes? No, this is not a good train of thought. Back up to how I will indeed get through the day tomorrow no matter what. Yes, that is better. My eyes burn more severely, but my shoulders are still tense. Try to relax. Try to relax. It's so hard. Why is it so hard?

I can always sleep. Except when I can't.

Insomniac.