For those of you that don’t know, I’ve been struggling with
severe insomnia for nearly six years.
I was never a great sleeper to begin with, but when I became pregnant
with Eli things went off the rails, never to return.
For awhile it was easy to justify: back-to-back pregnancies,
a Sophie that wouldn’t sleep, a body that was out of whack once Sophie did
finally begin to sleep. It wasn’t
until a year or so after Sophie started sleeping through the night that I truly
began to wonder if I would ever sleep normally again.
There were many stages during this deepening awareness that,
yes, I have a sleep disorder.
Frustration was the longest stage.
When you are so tired you can barely function and still cannot manage to
stay asleep for longer than three hours at a stretch, well, it’s hard not to go
bat-shit crazy.
These days, I am resigned to the whole thing. When I finally caved earlier this year
and asked my primary doctor for a prescribed sleep aid, it felt like total
defeat. I despise taking
medications and figured it would do little to help me in the long run.
Four different prescriptions later I am taking a medication
that does help the situation, a little.
After that initial visit, my primary care doctor was wise enough to
schedule, without asking me, an appointment with a sleep specialist. You know, cause there was a FOUR-MONTH
wait to get in to see him and she figured I might find some use in it. I shrugged, hoping the sleep meds would
help enough to get me back on track so I could cancel the appointment before it
rolled around. Not sure where this
optimism comes from...
Four months later, the sleep specialist told me that staying
on sleep aids forever wasn’t the best option, but I could do that if I wanted
to. Um, no. After ruling out sleep apnea and a host
of other sleep-related disorders, his next suggestion was to see a sleep
psychologist. I had no idea what
this would entail. His
explanation: It’s going to be hard, and things will get worse for awhile, but
nearly everyone has success going this route.
Vague, but what the hell… I’m in.
To give you an idea of the timeline here, I went to see my
primary care doctor in May, finally got the sleep aid I wanted (after having to
guinea pig three others) in July, saw the sleep specialist in October, and had
my first visit with the sleep psychologist at the beginning November.
Insurance snafus kept me from having my first follow-up
appointment with the current doc for nearly two months, until this past Monday.
It’s a good thing I’m not exhausted and desperate for
sleep. Oh, wait…
So finally, this highly anticipated appointment rolls
around.
It takes all of 10 minutes and goes something like this:
Doc: From your sleep logs, it looks like on your best nights
of sleep you get a little over six hours of sleep.
Me: That sounds about right.
Doc: But you’re often in bed for 9 or more hours.
Me: That sounds about right.
Doc: That’s a problem.
Me: …
Doc: When you’re in bed that long and not asleep, and doing
things like reading or drawing before you go to sleep, your body doesn’t
associate your bed with sleeping.
Me: Okay.
Doc: What time do you want to get up in the morning?
Me: Well, in a perfect world I’d never get out of bed before
8am.
Doc: No, you need to get up before your kids wake you
up. When would that be?
Me: Uh, I have two small kids. There is no set wake-up time. Right now it’s anywhere between 6:45 – 7:30, if I’m
lucky. Eli gets on jags where he
wakes up before 6.
Doc: So, 6:30?
Me: I don’t want to get up at 6:30.
Now she’s getting visibly annoyed with me. I shut it.
Doc: We need to figure out your wake-up time, so we can
figure out your bedtime.
Me: Okay. If I
wake up at 6:30?
Doc: Your bedtime would be 11:30.
Me: Oh… so 7:00 would make my bedtime-
Doc: Midnight.
I used to be a night owl. Not anymore.
Most nights I’m in bed by 10:30, 11 at the latest. I need to cash out in bed. To rest, if not sleep.
Me: Well, I guess I’ll take the 6:30 wake-up.
Doc: Right now you rarely sleep for more than 6 hours per
night. So you shouldn’t be in bed
much longer than that. You need to
sleep deprive yourself so your body knows that going to bed means sleep and
nothing else. You need to make yourself
so tired that your body will learn to sleep during that time because it’s the
only time it’s going to get.
DID THIS WOMAN JUST TELL ME TO MAKE MYSELF MORE TIRED? What kind of operation was this? Was there a hidden camera
somewhere? Were they trying to
make me go off my rocker? My
deer-in-the-headlights look and lack of response must have signaled consent on
my part, because she kept going.
Doc: It’s not going to be easy. You’re going to feel worse for awhile. But you’ve been sleep deprived for so
long that it shouldn’t affect the way you function too much. If it does, let me know. But you should be fine.
Me: …
And that was pretty much the appointment. I’ve waited seven months for someone to
spell out something that feels, quite honestly, very basic, although very
torture-like.
I came home equipped with more sleep logs, very specific
instructions on what I MAY NOT DO in my bed, and both a sense of relief and
dread. Whenever there’s a plan,
something else I can try, a new path, I feel relief because it means I haven’t
actually tried everything and there is hope that things might improve. However, this stay-up-late, don’t nap,
and get-up-early plan was daunting.
I’m so tired already. How
was less rest going to help me?
I can’t tell you yet whether it’s helping me or not. Now that my mind knows there is a
schedule and I only have limited time to sleep, my nights have once again
become quite restless. Since my
days start earlier and end later I feel like each day is its own marathon. Around 4:30 in the afternoon, when I
hit the worst slump of fatigue, all I can think is: Fuck! I still have to be awake for SEVEN MORE
HOURS. How am I supposed to do
that? But then I do.
And there’s this: Waking up before everyone in my house is
really quite wonderful. It would
be even better if I could sneak downstairs and actually start my day without
waking anyone (we live in an old, creaky-ass house, and although Eli could
sleep through an air-horn in his room in the evening, in the morning hours he
is the lightest little sleeper). I
have been instructed to get up IMMEDIATELY upon waking, so for now I’ve hauled
my meditation cushion up to our room, and I’ll sit and catch up on news
articles I wanted to read on my phone, dick around on Instagram, do yoga,
meditate, and sometimes just sit in the quiet and listen to my family sleep.
The doc was right that waking “on my own” (with an alarm, of
course) versus being woken up by a needy little one would give my day a
different start. When Eli and/or
Sophie stumble into our room I am ready and happy to greet them, instead of
waving them off back to bed, grumbling about how I need more sleep. If nothing else in this situation
changes for the better, I am thankful for that little slice of improvement.
Where will I be in a couple weeks? I have no idea, but I’ll keep you posted. Also, for those of you suffering from
insomnia I hope you find some useful advice in this post. Maybe you can get this figured out much
quicker than I have… waiting for medical advice you are desperate to receive
isn’t a great feeling, to put it kindly.
I wish all of you many restful nights of slumber, and hope I can join
you soon.
