Part 2 >

03/04/22

If you’ve been here a while, you know that there’s one thing I preach often; “Always fight to be the version of yourself that you love the most and are the proudest of.” Well, today, we’ve found ourselves in a unique situation where you get to follow along as I practice what I preach.

In this unique situation, I’ve been given a unique opportunity of having two weeks to a month to fix some flaws deeply ingrained in the make-up of my person. My unique opportunity came about when I was fired – yesterday. It still hurts pretty bad; I was in love with the company and the people within it.

‘Fired’ honestly is a strong word for the situation in its entirety, but it adds to the dramatic impact – hopefully highlighting the impact it has had on me, but I digress…

Among the factors that led to the end of a wonderful chapter, one stands out to me as the most personally prevalent and problematic; I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep for as far back as I can remember, and it has been heavily impacting my life for just as long; steadily growing worse over time. I have found myself at the peak of undergoing the consequences of lack of sleep in the last few years.

It affected me at work… I gained a reputation for being tardy. I fought very hard to combat this, and for the last month or so during my time of employment, I was on time – if not early every single day. I know it doesn’t sound like much in the grand scheme of things, but I had to fight very hard for that accomplishment, and it was something I got to be proud of with every new day. I had other obstacles standing in my way; the 40-minute drive, factoring out weather conditions, terrible drivers, and the construction zones that regularly littered my commute, but the most difficult obstacle of all was getting out of bed in the morning.

My memory suffered. Under normal circumstances, I have an outstanding memory. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written a song as I’ve drifted into a slumber, only to recall it some time part-way into the next day with every perfect detail still stored intact in my brain, or read a note in passing only to recite it identically hours later when a moment called for it, but lately, there have been giant holes missing in my memory as if I stumbled and tripped landmines as I coursed through my imagination and stream of daily thought. I swear I can watch the same exact movie two days in a row and have every scene and interaction be as brand new the second time around as it was the first. Worst of all, I’m not accustomed to having a failing memory. I still trust that if I tell my brain something I need to remember, it will hang onto it and release it when I need that information again. Over the years, I have grown so comfortable with knowing that I will have everything stored in my brain and available to me when I need it that it often doesn’t occur to me that I need to write things down. I have learned to expect my mind to hold on to things, and it has become ever more damaging to realize again and again that it just – doesn’t anymore.

I repeatedly exhibited poor and foolish judgment. I would overlook key details – pieces of information that I knew all too well, and find myself spiraling for a solution, reaching far and deep for an answer – when the answer was right in front of me, and the course to get there should have just been through habit and muscle memory.

Some days, I was excellent at my job. If I had slept, I would have always been excellent.

It affected me at home…

I missed out on my creative freedom. I stopped blogging; a journey that I had found a profound love for and continuously felt inspired and excited to pursue. I stopped writing songs, capturing photos and videos, trying my hand at new crafts, playing my instruments… I’ve neglected all the elements that turn my gears and keep me enamored with life.

I missed the people that I love. Replying to a simple text was expending energy I couldn’t afford, never mind in-person social interaction. I forgot to visit and chat, and I excused myself from sharing and engaging.

I missed the activities that I love. I wanted to skate this winter. For Christmas, I was gifted a beautiful new pair of figure skates, and now it’s March, and those skates have still never seen the ice. I have a yoga app on my phone that never opens and a purple mat that moves only when I need something behind it. I’ve been dying to go to the new roller rink that opened in January, and my foot has never stepped through the door. My Kick Rollers are kicked in a corner, and the only reason I still haven’t beaten Circus in Beat Saber is because I’ve only played once in the last half a year.

Some days, I experienced a high quality of life. If I had slept, I would have always experienced that quality.

I have watched my under-eyes blacken and sink, my skin grow paler, and my cheeks, puffier. I have floated through the months with a cloudy mind and glazed eyes losing sight of passion and track of time. Monday through Friday, I would wake up more fatigued than when I began my slumber. I would forget the events of my morning by the time I arrived to work. I would expend all my energy staying focused, on task, and efficient, so by the time I got home, I was too exhausted to do any of the things I had been looking forward to. Instead, I would zone out on a stream of YouTube videos with content I cared little about until I ran out the clock and needed to try again to sleep until my alarm clock sounded again the following day. Weekends were just an opportunity to try and catch up on the sleep I hadn’t accumulated through the workweek. I would wake on Saturdays as early as 11 A.M., and roll out of bed as early as 1 P.M. I would mindlessly saunter to the couch with a tea in one fist and my phone in the other, where I would sit and sift through the same five apps for hours on end. Some Saturdays, I would find a burst of energy for maybe an hour, where I would begin a task, activity, or project I had been meaning to do. I seldom finished; I would find myself zoning out again and before I knew it, the day was over. Sundays mirrored Saturdays, but with the added burden of knowing Monday would soon follow. The pressure of needing rest before Monday morning provided a barricade that deterred me from doing anything on a Sunday. Though without fail, there came a point in every weekend where I would promise myself, “this week, I will…” The blank was filled with various things I intended to do after my workdays, and the promise would always ambitiously end with, “there’s no reason why I can’t.” Of course, each week, I would break my promise, blaming a lack of time as the culprit that prevented my chances.

I have difficulty falling asleep, staying asleep, and waking up. Whenever I do manage to fall into a deep sleep, I often don’t find myself there until just a few short hours – sometimes minutes – before I’m supposed to wake, and those are the days that are especially difficult to get out of bed in the morning.

I finally find myself with the sensation of being ready to begin my day at about 10 P.M. every day, and by then, I have already begun winding down in preparation for my slumber and for the day ahead. Though, I don’t typically find myself particularly restless before bed. On occasion, of course, I feel unexplained energy coursing through my veins that doesn’t allow me to keep still, or my brain will twist through vivid and frantic wormholes of ideas, memories, and thoughts that keep me alert through the Ferris wheel ride that the hour hand takes on the clock, but on most nights – I can pinpoint neither my restless body nor mind as the catalyst that keeps me present under the moon. I just lay there, eyes closed, body still and cozy, thoughts calm and distant… awake. Still awake, enduring a perfect recipe for sleep. Sometimes, for several hours. It feels like a curse.

I eventually finally fall asleep for the first time, almost always finding myself awake again at least once sometime later. Sometimes, only a matter of a few short minutes later. Then, this repeats, and repeats, and repeats…

Waking so frequently must utilize a lot of energy, for I find myself more and more exhausted each time I wake. Sometimes, I find myself in a pattern as tightly knit as a sound wave, bouncing between being awake and asleep. I’ll awake so exhausted that I can’t remain awake for longer than a second, but as soon as I doze off, I awake again.

By the time my alarm sounds, I feel worn, as if I had spent a full day running a marathon or fighting a river’s current, or climbing a cliffside while carrying a backpack full of bricks. Every morning, it takes everything in me to rise out of bed and begin a new day because every morning, I feel as though the day should already be over.

As I said, that is most days. Like I said, occasionally my brain stirs, and my body is electric. Occasionally too, I have lucid, crippling nightmares that last for days or weeks, sometimes months. Most days are the better days, and they’re far from being good.

Occasionally, I don’t wake up through the night, and I experience deep sleep for a while, yet still, when morning arrives, I still don’t feel rested. I hardly feel any more alert or present through these days as I do through any other. Though mind you, these days don’t typically follow one other in a row.

Occasionally, I don’t sleep through the night at all. Sometimes, I don’t ever fall asleep and on these nights, sometimes, I stay in bed straight through until morning and on other nights, I give up and wander the house, or begin to draw or paint or create in some capacity to bide the time until the sun peeks out over the horizon, when I pour my tea and bide the time again until nightfall.

I do find that I tend to be more grounded in my body and more awake through the day if I can maintain a schedule of falling asleep around four or five in the morning and sleeping until noon or 1 P.M. the next day. I still don’t necessarily feel ‘well rested’ per se, but I am able to maintain a better quality of life within that schedule, almost as if my internal clock thinks I belong to a different time zone.

While I was attending grade school, it grew more and more difficult for me to abide by the school’s hours of operation. I was often late for the bus and found myself regularly banished from my first class of the day and ordered to sit in the library – the punishment in high school reflecting the three-strike tardy policy. My sister, who is adamantly punctual and otherwise buried in stress was always frustrated with me, agitated as I stumbled through the mornings in my fatigue and cornered her into being burdened by the consequences of tardiness on my behalf. (Sorry, I love you!) I looked forward to the end of high school, viewing the day after graduation as the first day of the rest of my future where I would never have to wake up early again.

For years after high school, I sought out jobs that fit my needs around sleep, promising myself that I would never have to struggle the way I did through school again. I would bartend, work graveyard shifts, or the late shift at places that were open for more than eight hours a day. Eventually, I realized that those [kinds of] jobs would never totally satisfy me or allow me to grow fully into my potential. Eventually, I realized that to truly become great, I would have to begin working at jobs that abided by the regular, 9-5 type scheduling. By then, it had been long enough since school that I had nearly forgotten just how hard it was on me, and I was convinced that I would be able to do it. (Spoiler alert: I wasn’t able.)

I’ve struggled with telling people that I’m tired because well, we all are, and stating it sounds like a washed-out excuse. Elaborating sounds like doubling down and retracting from elaboration illudes confirmation of the excuse. Finally, enduring it silently provides no support, understanding, compromise, or help.

I have tried many things over the years to try and improve my quality of sleep.

I don’t consume caffeine after 4 P.M., I haven’t looked at my phone while in bed in years, I sleep in pitch black with white noise…

I have tried creating a more balanced diet and implicating regular exercise in my life. Hell, I’ve even tried overexerting myself through the day in hopes that by nightfall, I would be exhausted enough to fall easily asleep.

I have taken melatonin before bed every night for nearly a year, now.

I’ve been to the doctor and tried several sleeping pills, and – pun intended – it was a hard pill to swallow realizing that every sleeping pill I tried only made my problem worse. Without fail, with every pill I was prescribed, I would notice little to no difference for the first few days. I would maybe claim that I did notice I slept more soundly during the first little bit, and perhaps sometimes that was a placebo, but in other instances, I’m certain I had experienced a sounder sleep. However, by the time I got to (say) day four or day five, I would start to find myself maddeningly alert after the effects of the pill kicked in. Nightly, my mind would race, and my body would become restless, and I found that I was beginning to get even less sleep than I had before I began consuming the pill. This has even been my experience with cold & flu products like NyQuil, and in fact, I had that experience just earlier this year!

Side Story In 3… 2… 1…

Since COVID-19 began, I have only been sick once, (and it wasn’t with COVID-19, it was just the regular old common cold.) I took NyQuil to try and get some rest as my body healed and for the first few nights, I felt great! In fact, by night three (if I recall correctly,) I woke up feeling well-rested for the first time in my long-term memory. My cold was nearly over, a few sniffles and a scratchy throat left, and I was so excited to completely heal and experience a day where I was well-rested and healthy; I was excited to see what I was actually capable of. That night, I took NyQuil again, and as I drew deeper into the night, I grew steadily more awake. My body was pulsing with energy and my mind was vividly alert. By 3 A.M., I realized I wasn’t going to sleep that night, and at the time, I was working from home, so at 3 A.M., I just decided to start working. I did eventually go to sleep that night – at nearly six in the morning. I awoke just a couple of hours later (to begin my actual workday) distraught that I had missed my opportunity to experience my fully rested self.

Despite (mainly) my mother and boyfriend adamantly encouraging me, the only thing I have yet to try is visiting a sleep clinic. I’ve been hesitant. I’ve been making excuses.

The first of which holds the most weight of truth; I love being a night owl. I love the night – especially during the summer. Nothing fills me with more contentment, comfort, happiness, and electricity than the way that being under a brightly lit moon at three or four AM on a warm summer night does. I love the night, and I especially love the night outside. I love the night in the city as much as I do in the countryside. I love the warmth that fills me and the stillness that surrounds me in the night. The experience I get on any given night far surpasses the experiences I’ve had on my most memorable and outstanding summer days. Whether alone or among company, the best I have ever felt has always been during the night.

No, I don’t mean like that. Stop it. You’re gross. I’m talking fully clothed and sober here. The night just has an effect on me that is genuinely incomparable to anything else. So… I’ve been afraid to give that up. If I become tired at night, I will miss it.

I’ve often longed for the ability to choose when to sleep without consequence so that I could be awake on time for work every morning and still choose to be awake at 4 A.M. on the weekends to experience the ecstasy of the night during my time off. I’ve longed for the superpower to never need sleep, for the ability to only need to sleep four hours a night, or for days to be twenty-four hours and nights too, while still only needing eight hours rest and eight hours for work – so I never had to miss out on any of the things I wished to partake in. I’ve often longed, and dreamed, and wished.

Second, I’ve been worried about how it will disrupt others, as well as my own life. The imminent need to visit a sleep clinic has been most prevalent, and only at the forefront of my mind during times when I must wake up early, such as in school, or during my last few years at work. I would first have to make a doctor’s appointment to get a referral for a clinic, which would mean taking time off work. I would then have an appointment, or appointments at the clinic – more time off work. I’m worried about being trialed through another string of sleeping pills because if my previous experience is any indicator, that will mean I will have less sleep than normal for every drug tried until (if) we find one that works. That will make waking up, remaining focused and present, and being functional even harder. All those things will severely impact me and my coworkers – most of all.

Third, I’m worried about the uncertainty of it all. Will I find a maintainable, satisfying solution, and how long will it take? How much of an uphill battle am I up against, and (what) will I need to sacrifice? I’m worried that I will become defeated and give up, or that I will have to drastically change the structure of my days to incorporate a workable sleep schedule. I know that change is hard and especially having to implement several changes at once can be immensely challenging for anyone – and while I don’t necessarily fear change, I have ADHD, so implementing changes to my own life can be particularly challenging, as I’m combating more factors than an average, typical person.

I know they’re excuses, but they’re also genuine concerns and so far, they’ve been enough to deter me from trying that path. I haven’t felt equipped to take it all on. In many ways, I still don’t, but I’ve realized that I simply cannot continue like this. I have been choosing to miss out on a quality of life, either by being awake when the world around me is not or by being exhausted when the world is alive. I have been suffering from losing chunks of time alongside memory, I have been missing out on my own best experiences, and I haven’t been functioning on a level that can truly highlight how wonderfully capable I am. I will not become accomplished, successful, or satisfied if I do not fix my inability to properly sleep. This is obvious more than ever to me now. Just the same as I chose to begin a day job to create my own best future, I must now choose to fight against my involuntary urges to stay awake. I have been deeply considering this well before my very sad day yesterday. I have been researching sleep clinics, figuring out how to work my time around it, and working up the courage to inform my employers about the potential consequences and drawbacks of my immediate future, and how it may affect them. I have been given a unique opportunity to take away a worry; a timeframe of two weeks to a month to begin the process of visiting a sleep clinic and exploring my inability to sleep during a time where the stakes of appointments and pills will not affect anyone else – at least for a short little while.

I have booked a doctor’s appointment for Tuesday – four days from today – to get a referral to visit a sleep clinic so I can finally begin this long overdue journey. I will take you along on my experience and I will drag you through the good, bad, and ugly of it all. I have always tried to fight to become the version of myself that I can love the most and be the proudest of. It just so happens that I’ve been neglecting this particular area for far too long. It’s time to change that, and it’s time to take another step toward becoming all that I was ever meant to be. I encourage you to do the same; work on that part of you that you have been neglecting. Fight against the current of your deeply established worries and take another step forward for yourself. Do it with me, so that my reason can be for you and yours, for me. After all, it can be a lot easier to fight if it’s for the sake of someone you care about.

Part 2 >

03/04/22

If you’re still around, one easy way to let me know that you’ve read this post is by clicking the Love button just below! If you struggle with your own sleep issues, I would love to hear about how you’ve taken on the battle, or your worries about starting in the comments.