A Few Random Cures for Insomnia

Insomnia - sheepI have taken to waking up at three or four AM in a state of (pick one) sadness, anxiety, unidentifiable angst or worry over the future of the planet.  It’s not something I recommend, and hopefully it will not become a permanent habit. But I do note that I wrote about it on May 22, 2016. Had totally forgotten that profound essay, which may say something about its profunditiy. This one, however, is about solutions! The earlier one did in fact have a bunch of potential solutions, because it was inspired, at least in part, by a wonderful New Yorker piece that the inimitable Patricia Marx wrote about the limitless assortments of insomnia aids currently on the market. What follows are the things that get me back to sleep – – – eventually.

Watching the night skies. This has to be #1. Works best for me, thanks to the happy circumstance of having a large window that looks westward over San Francisco 7 floors below. I often get reflections of the city lights onto the clouds (or fog) above; occasionally I get a setting moon.Night sky 11.19 Staring heavenward does not require turning on the lights or getting out of bed – unless the sight is so remarkable I feel the need to capture it with my iPhone camera. The conviction that something more competent than the planet’s current inhabitants is in charge enables me to talk myself down from whatever woe has me in its grip.

If I do the turn-on-the-light-&-make-a cup-of-tea thing, there are the wonders of modern technology for #2. My smart phone spends the night in another room (something I find necessary to my sanity) so accessing it requires a measure of wakefulness (see above.) But then there it is with its handy little Calm app. Or better still, I will pick it up to find my friend Liz has just sent a video of tall trees in a Georgia forest sending their fall leaves off into a symphony of gentleness. Trees by LizIf that doesn’t lull me back to sleep, there’s an entirely other solution now that the accursed device has injected itself into my insomnia. Ninety percent of the non-existential things about which I am stewing have simple answers that Safari can provide: Yes, that book I need is available at my Western Addition Library branch! Here are the directions to a repair shop! An email just arrived from the editor I thought didn’t like my story! (What’s he doing up at 4 AM? Not my problem.) Spirits calmed or problems solved, I can then manage to go back to sleep.

And now that the light is on, the book is there. I am pretty careful not to keep Bram Stoker or Franz Kafka on the bedside table, or any of those excellent books about apartheid or the Holocaust, however fine they might be for daytime reading. But I’ll have A.S. Byatt, or Laurie Colwin, or Edith Wharton – any of those lovely friends who can pull you so deeply into a story that they will displace the cause of the insomnia. Of course, you might not want to put the book down, but that’s another problem altogether.Universe

Insomnia is not an easy foe. It may indeed require calling in the troops Marx uncovered – eye masks, stretchy hats, blue lights, Valium, whatever. But before you go to all that trouble and expense I hereby recommend the good book, the internet solution or the celestial assurance that the universe is in good hands – if you’ll just go back to sleep and quit worrying about it.

 

 

 

Insomnia? Who, me? – – and you too?

Insomnia

Sleeping has always been my strong suit. I may have long failed at math and technology, never finished a full marathon, and accumulated an impressive pile of rejection letters; but I have forever taken great pride in my ability to fall asleep. Anywhere, anytime. Occasionally at inappropriate times. And once asleep, the ability to stay asleep has been one of my outstanding skills.

So where did this insomnia come from? Geezerhood? Global angst? Oneness with humanity – since so much of humanity seems afflicted with insomnia? Beginning a year or so ago I have turned into an early-morning insomniac.

Worse (or maybe better, in some complex, comforting sense) it seems to be a universal condition. This theory was reinforced by New Yorker writer Patricia Marx recently in one of her classic explorations of a topic and its related market. “In Search of Forty Winks” (The New Yorker, February 8 & 15) takes readers on a wide awake laughing tour of the gadgets, contraptions, medications, programs and assorted products currently being employed by the thirty+ percent of us regularly struggling to catch a little shut-eye.

It does not help to know you’re not alone.

It does help, a tiny bit, to know you’re not spending the hundreds, often thousands of dollars your fellow insomniacs are spending on headgear, eyewear, electronic gadgetry and bedding while trudging along their sleep-deprived paths through life. But maybe they know something I don’t know.Insomnia - clock

Me? Telling myself stories has always worked as a way to put myself to sleep. (Which may say something about my short stories, but we will not go there now.) I have a few stock stories that end with achieving some great literary goal, or involve wandering off into the sunset on a romantic beach, or, well, whatever. Sketching them out in my head always puts me to sleep midway through. They are not working.

Instead, my brain – that same organ often prone to fuzzing over at random, inconvenient moments – kicks in at 3, 4 or 5 AM. It says things like What are you going to do when your husband’s neuropathy worsens? Does that kid/grandkid/distressed friend need help? When are you going to finish that (fill in the blank)?

The first two by themselves are good for at least an hour, since they are open-ended to the point of the ridiculous. But the third is the killer. It evolves into an argument with myself about whether to go ahead, get up and make some actual progress on the unfinished whatever, or whether that will just make things worse because I still won’t finish it; either way, the rest of the night’s sleep is shot.  Insomnia complications

There are, of course, answers out there. There is a National Sleep Foundation website with rolling banners and tabs about common causes, diagnoses, symptoms and treatment. There are WebMD’s helpful “natural sleep solutions” (lavender oil baths, half a banana with peanut butter 30 minutes before bedtime) and Prevention’s “simple steps (yeah, right) to a better night’s sleep” – all sprinkled with useful data about how sleep loss leads to high blood pressure, weight gain and potentially fatal accidents. Data that’s already keeping you up nights.

Maybe we could worry about it all in the morning? After 7:30 please?