Hey insomnia, where ya been?

Because it's (finally) after 4am, I'm up and drinking coffee, eating toasted naan with a smidge of delicious butter. I say Finally, since I've been awake for hours, since 2:30, the wheels in my head turning non-stop, deep rhythmic breathing notwithstanding...

The irony for me, of course, is that this was actually a day on which I was planning on sleeping in a bit -- til 7:30-ish -- planning to go to a later yoga class to allow me some precious morning hours at home, writing or in the garden, without having to rush off either to work or somewhere else. Generally it pains me to leave here during the morning glory, right now especially, in this early early part of summer. And it's 7 days a week, honestly, that I do a fast-paced morning garden walk-about, say good morning to Jasper, look at what's sprouted, then quick, in the car and go.

So I'm getting my early morning hours at home wish, I guess, although it's still night out. For the next hour and a half! I'm tucked away with coffee and laptop in the office so as not to annoy the sleeping. This is my first insomniac experience since losing Jas, so it's novel to be in here alone, without him and his sighing over how early it is and when are we going for a walk.

Provided I don't completely fry by noon, I should have a good long day ahead of me to get a ton of shit done, maybe even a stretch of time with my nose in a book -- now THAT would be lovely.

It's true that I have some mixed feelings about insomnia. Once in a while, like now, it's OK. The problem is that if I need to guard against its becoming habitual, which makes it then less useful. Because it eats away at my sunny-ness and clarity. And puts me on the path to migraine.

And what's it all about this sleeplessness? What's spinning the wheels? A stupid-long list.

I've tried really hard so far this year to be more discerning about my time and not take on so much, and that's working (although it feels a little lame sometimes).  Still, with a business, a building, a job, a house, a personal retirement to plan for, a yoga practice, a micro-farm, two hives of bees, a social life, two blogs, a kid, a dog (deceased), a sister with inoperable brain cancer and a passion for Jesus, parents, in-laws, Mother's Day, relations, oh a third blog now, and an insatiable curiosity to know and see and touch and read everything -- yeah, I've got a fair amount competing for my attention during the day, enough to overflow into the nighttime quiet and remove me from a deep sleep.

For a person like me, with a stupid-long list, when applied sparingly, insomnia is so helpful! Assuming it's just for today, then I welcome it with open arms. Thank you for the chance to get this list out of my head and on paper, and maybe with three extra hours of up-and-at-'em, I can actually make enough headway to sleep easier tonight.

insomnia and revolution

Four a.m. is the appointed hour for me -- the magical time at which, if I've been insomniac (today, since 1am), I can get up, press Go on the coffee pot, and start the day.  The waiting to rise is all about trying to wait out the sleeplessness, see if sleep will take me back.  But it also has a way of turning the rising into a kind of mini Christmas for me -- I long for the moment, excitement building.  Absurd, yes, but such is my sleepless lot.

I keep my room as dark as possible.  The only light is whatever light is in the sky naturally.  Some nights, full moon nights, that's too much for me and I lower the blinds.  I moved the digital clock a long time ago so that it's still in the room, but out of my immediate sight and blocked entirely by the mounds our bodies make under the blankets.  Anyway, I keep it dark since dark and quiet are the required conditions for my snooze.  If I could leave a window open year round, I would do that, too, but such is my married lot.

But there are times, lots of them, when -- despite managing my requisite sleep conditions -- I am nevertheless awake, reveling in the dark and quiet, having ideas and solving problems to the tune of the twinned breathing of husband and dog.  Sometimes I get to hear owls or wonder at the scrabbling and other animal sounds in the yard.  It is, ironically, dreamy.

And at 4, I can finally slip out of bed and get started.  At last.  Later on I may feel a little loopy (which slows me down enough, actually, to make me more bearable at work, I think), but right now I am loving it.  Loving it in the same way I love jetlag - in that I feel like I am inhabiting my own time, unbound by schedule, awake when I'm awake, enjoying it, being inside my head all by myself.

It's possible this is just insomniac raving, but I was wondering -- sometime between 3 and 4 am -- how many revolutions have insomnia as their source.  I mean, really: sometime between 2 and 3am, I worked out all of my own problems (I'm serious), so it doesn't seem all that unlikely that others have used this special time to tackle and solve bigger issues.  Imagine, French revolutionaries, powdered wigs gleaming just out of sight on the dresser, figuring out their society's ills and hatching their plans in the middle of the night.  Among others.  Unfortunately, my quick Google yielded only insomnia cures (as if!), so so far, that I know of, none of the other insomniac revolutionaries have written about this.

I may need a nap later on, or to be earlier to bed even than usual, but right now I am enjoying being awake.  Especially because I really, really did work out all of my problems, which is a whole separate post that I'll work on when I'm done with this one.  I have time, right?  After all, it's not even 5 yet.  ;)

Replacing Ativan with Eckhart Tolle?

I've had the worst, most heinous insomnia since about November. It became totally impossible to sleep through the night. I'd wake up repeatedly from just horrible anxiety dreams then lay awake, tossing and turning over whatever list of worry was running incessantly through my mind. It was crazy. I actually dreaded going to bed at night, since it was just such utter torture.

I can break down the reasons for all this anxiety, but won't bore you with the litany here.

A couple of months ago I finally saw my doctor, just feeling at wit's end from not sleeping, and she prescribed Ativan for what she clearly saw as anxiety. I am delighted that that shit really works for me. A tab at bedtime and it's like I'm awake, then I'm dead, then I'm awake again. It might sound bad, but it is nothing but good, believe me. Deep, deathlike sleep kicks the ass of insomnia any day of the week.

But of course, I don't like the idea of swallowing pills and do admit that there's a nasty voice in my head constantly accusing me of weakness for needing to resort to prescription drugs to get through this rough patch (f*k that voice, seriously...). So I went without the Ativan last Saturday night, just to see what would happen.

And guess what: the anxiety is still there. Hasn't gone anywhere or resolved itself magically. So it was a rough night. I am fully cognizant that the pills are not a solution.

Then listening to Eckhart Tolle in the car on the way home tonight ("Practicing the Power of Now," and boy, do I really need reinforcement in that area), it struck me how freaking upside down my life has gotten lately: when I am conscious/awake, basically I'm moving through the day unconscious -- fast, on task, plowing through an endless To Do list, zigging from one thing to another without pause. When I am trying to be unconscious/asleep, I am actually conscious, replaying an endless awful tape of mental misery. How screwed up is that?

According to Tolle, becoming aware that you're not present in the present moment is the beginning of presence. I'm hoping that staying conscious in my waking hours will allow me to let go of the crap that keeps me awake at night, so that I can slowly wean myself off the meds and get a decent, normal night's sleep. I'll keep you posted.

Thanks, Ativan: Sleep changes everything

I am awake this morning -- really awake for the first in months -- after my first night of sleeping-pill-assisted sleep. I was asleep before 9am, awake around 5:30, which represents plenty of hours. After months of insomnia-riddled nights, I am feeling so much better this morning. Yes, I woke up a couple of times, but went immediately back to sleep, no endless mental knitting of every problem under the sun.

What a relief!

And what took me so long?

I put off calling the doctor for a long time, watching to see if the situation would improve on its own, which, of course, it did not. The doctor is convinced that my problem is anxiety (and can you blame me given everything that's going on in my family?). Addressing my lack of sleep should restore my sunny outlook on things and provide the resilience I need to face all these damn challenges.

I don't like turning to pharmaceuticals. Even with the migraines, I resist it, to my own detriment. So I got to learn again about the value of asking for help sooner rather than later, and the value of swallowing help sooner rather than later.

Ridiculous how much better I feel today with just 8 hours of solid shut-eye. I am so looking forward to this day and feel like I'm back to who I really am.