Who needs sleep?

Throughout my life I have been an insomniac. It might be attributed to having a drunken father stumble into the house in the middle of the night or it may be my prehistoric relatives were on night watch. If I cannot get sleep at night, I tend to nap during the day quite easily. I tend to write these posts when I should be in bed, but I know if I was not doing this, I still would not be in bed trying to sleep.

Over the years, I have learned there is no real way to fight insomnia. I tried medications and hated them. They always left me feeling more tired than if I had just not slept. Sleep hygiene has been drilled into me by my doctors for years. No amount of habits or proven methods have ever made me a reliable sleeper. The closest I have gotten is taking magnesium at night. It does not make me sleep, but it makes me feel drowsy- something I will not naturally feel no matter how long I stay up.

The current theory among my doctors is that the problem is caused by stress. This may be true. My life has been filled with traumatic events. I also suffer intrusive thoughts when I try to will myself to sleep. There does not really seem to be a solution to having a stressful life, so the doctors are stuck and I am in a constant state of tiredness.

Being tired was my state of life before children. I was asked during my adoption interview how I would deal with feeling tired and I said, “I am always tired” (This was my Hulk moment). It was as true back then as it is now. People feel bad about it. The healthcare professionals in my family’s life tend to promise to fix it. I just smile and agree that sleeping more would be nice. It will not happen, but it is a nice thought.

The ability to not sleep has come in handy many times as a parent. It helped me to monitor my children’s sleep terrors. My oldest would actually assault herself in her sleep. I would need to restrain her until she settled down. It has allowed me to stop late night mischief before it can begin. One time my oldest was trying to stay up and read all night. She had covered her lamp to hide the light from me, but she fell asleep and her covering nearly started a fire. The power of insomnia has allowed me to be the night watchman in my own home. I feel the girls probably started to sleep well because they know nothing gets past me. I had to prove that for almost a year before they finally stopped trying to pull one over on me.

I am insomnia. I am the night watchman. I am Mom.