I can’t sleep.
I’ve turned over a hundred times, squashed my pillow against the headboard searching for the perfect position, even though I know it’s not my body that’s at fault; it’s my mind.
It races along at a hundred miles per hour, running through the days problems and discussions, things I am unhappy with and conversations I might have about it. I work through a dozen alternative outcomes, ways of solving the issue, awkward conversations that I need to have. I even plan out the talks with other managers, the chair I will sit in in their office, the way I will word it and what they might say in return. I can see the trees out of their window, their southern sides turning yellow, and the traffic passing on the main road. All of this plays out in minute detail in my mind's eye.
And while this all goes on in my head, this show reel of things that have been and things that may happen, I can’t sleep.
I get up to use the bathroom and return to the warmth of the sheets. He curls towards me, a reflex from nine years of sleep-dancing, and I push him away. His occasional gentle snores only make it worse as I watch the minutes tick past on the bedside clock. I can feel the perspiration in my hairline as the stress of the lost hours makes my heart race as fast as my head, a vicious cycle; no sleep, no time, panic, thumping heart, no sleep, no time, thoughts running overtime.
Getting up is the only way to break the cycle. I creep down the darkened hallway, the one I was so frightened of a few nights ago, and into the lounge. I open my laptop and start to write to try and exorcise these demons.
I’ve turned over a hundred times, squashed my pillow against the headboard searching for the perfect position, even though I know it’s not my body that’s at fault; it’s my mind.
It races along at a hundred miles per hour, running through the days problems and discussions, things I am unhappy with and conversations I might have about it. I work through a dozen alternative outcomes, ways of solving the issue, awkward conversations that I need to have. I even plan out the talks with other managers, the chair I will sit in in their office, the way I will word it and what they might say in return. I can see the trees out of their window, their southern sides turning yellow, and the traffic passing on the main road. All of this plays out in minute detail in my mind's eye.
And while this all goes on in my head, this show reel of things that have been and things that may happen, I can’t sleep.
I get up to use the bathroom and return to the warmth of the sheets. He curls towards me, a reflex from nine years of sleep-dancing, and I push him away. His occasional gentle snores only make it worse as I watch the minutes tick past on the bedside clock. I can feel the perspiration in my hairline as the stress of the lost hours makes my heart race as fast as my head, a vicious cycle; no sleep, no time, panic, thumping heart, no sleep, no time, thoughts running overtime.
Getting up is the only way to break the cycle. I creep down the darkened hallway, the one I was so frightened of a few nights ago, and into the lounge. I open my laptop and start to write to try and exorcise these demons.
12 comments:
I'm so glad this was the first thing I read today - I loved it, especially the pacing of the 'no sleep, no time, panic....'
Hope your demons were exorcised & you got back to sleep eventually.
Until this moment I could have sworn I'd never suffered from sleep troubles. Then I read "no sleep, no time."
I remember that. It's painful to be in that cycle.
Simple, perfect description.
I loved this post and I truly understand it, it happens to me a lot. That vicious cycle was a part of my everyday until I've started jogging.
I'm wondering if your demons were exorcised and you finally could sleep?
It's a bit disconcerting to read words that seem to echo...as if you've already heard or said them.
I hate the loop in my mind. But you write of it with a slightly painful brilliance.
How rude it was of him to lie there snoring, soaking up all the snooziness...
Been there, done that. It's exhausting.
Been there, done that. It's exhausting.
Impressive posts indeed. Cognition is a mental tool not always required when reading the work of some bloggers. You, on the other hand awaken a sense of intelligence in your readers.
Pure dead brilliant.
I never used to suffer from difficulty with sleeping but I have done so recently and so I totally empathise with your post! Hope you have a better night sleep tonight!
Sounds very like anxiety is troubling you at the moment - Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, and the tear-stains on it! Trust me, I'm a therapist.
There are things you can do to help get through this patch of what seems like over-thinking, over-analysing and pathologizing things...
If you want to know, drop me a note as I don't want to rush in where it's not needed, so...
Beautifully wrought words. Thank you for being so honest.
Thank you so much for your comments - sorry it's taken me so long to respond.
I'm pleased to say this was a one off for me - I sympathise completely with insomniacs and whilst I think I can empathise I know I can't really imagine what it would be like to have that feeling every night.
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