I have a confession to make. Actually I could make a lot of confessions. Some would be pretty tame, which this blog probably will be, and others could be not so tame. I have you now don’t I? I bet you’ll keep reading…..
Alas, this blog entry’s confession is just about my sleeping habits. They aren’t good. I’ve been a light sleeper forever. Any little noise wakes me up. This is not a good thing when your husband snores. In fact, sometimes it’s not so good even when he breathes. I hear it all. And it all keeps me awake.
I remember when I was young going through a period of insomnia. I just could not sleep. I laid in my bed and listened to music trying to get to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. I’d eventually end up crying and frustrated in the middle of the night until my parents would come in and try to calm me down. My father once asked me what it was and why I couldn’t sleep. I told him that I just couldn’t turn off my brain and asked him how he slept. “I just close my eyes and see darkness so I sleep.” I thought it sounded like the simpliest thing in the world, but I couldn’t do it.
I still can’t. I take meds to sleep. Ambien. Ativan. Over the counter sleeping meds. Not all together mind you……. Well, sometimes.
I’ve had many people just tell me to relax and sleep would come. It doesn’t. I’ve had people tell me to count sheep, do math, sing to myself, think of ‘nothing’ (as a woman am I allowed to think of nothing? Isn’t that a felony in the land of womanhood?) or to do yoga, deep breathing. NOTHING helps. Sometimes the meds don’t even help.
Once when I was a kid I heard this noise in the middle of the night. It had awakened me and I lay there listening to it trying to determine what it was. Once I figured it out I got up, turned on the light and made the noise stop. My Dad asked me what I was doing. I said “Killing the little bug that was crawling on my baseboard heater.” Yes, a tiny bug skittering across my heater woke me. I am THAT light of a sleeper.
I dread going to places outside of my home to sleep. It’s such an ordeal and I know I won’t sleep most times. It makes vacations very NON relaxing. I praise God for a guest room in our home because my husband often sleeps there during my bouts of insomnia. He is very understanding about it, but I feel bad and guilty because he can’t sleep in his own bed.
I keep trying. Someday I’ll hit the one thing that truly helps me.
For now…like tonight….. I’ll just keep writing blog posts telling you my confessions until sleep comes.