Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sabbatical Sunday—Sleep



13 Ways to Know You Need to Get More Sleep

1. Your dog nags you. Whines urgently in her throat. Come to bed, come to bed. 

2. You find yourself saying, aloud, in a minute, just a minute. You keep tapping keys on your computer, your face washed in blue light.

3. One minute turns into ten turns into an hour and another. You’re searching for something but you don’t know what. So many voices out there, demanding your attention, so many things that can be done. The lure of websites that promise, just one more, this next page will solve everything, but you don’t even remember what you traveled here to solve.

4. By the time you do wrench yourself away, you feel wounded and confused, as if a little bit of your brain has literally torn away, shreds of it sticking to the screen.

5. You feel confused by the state of your house. Somehow, in the hours you spent online, the pile of dishes in the sink has grown, the trash has overflowed, clothes have strewn themselves on the bedroom floor. How did this happen?

6. You find yourself in front of the refrigerator, holding open the door, with no earthly idea why you’re there. You go to wash the dishes, but find yourself eating a bowl of cereal instead. And now you’re sitting in front of the television, watching a re-run of “The New Girl.”

7. You want to be a New Girl.

8. When you finally make it to bed, your dog looks up at you, her face a familiar mix of adoration and accusation. It’s a face that says, oh, you again, how kind of you to join us. A face that says grumpily, Where have you been?

9. Admit nothing. Just shove her over to her side of the bed. You’ve done this every night for years, but every night she acts as though it’s an affront. She sighs. She’s very disappointed in you.
You know things are bad when you’ve disappointed your dog.

10. Promise you’ll do better from now on. You’ll practice good “sleep hygiene” (as your doctor puts it); you’ll brush your teeth, drink a cup of herbal tea, turn off all screens hours before bedtime. You’ll do your yoga breathing. You’ll stretch a little, put on lavender-scented moisturizer, think only good thoughts. You’ll keep a tidy little dream journal by your bed, pen at the ready.

11. Instead, you fall into a fitful sleep, exhausted, as though you’ve been in a fight.

12. Your sleeping mind skims the surface, like a search engine, lighting here and there, dwelling in the places that get the most hits. You can’t settle. You wake too early, more tired than before.

13. You look over at your dog, who sleeps with her eyes open. She sees you but doesn’t see you. Her legs twitch. She chases something in her dreams.




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11 comments:

  1. My parents were geniuses of sleep, but my inheritance halved their abilities instead of doubling them. Your sleep musings are wise, never somnolent. Thanks.

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    1. Geniuses of sleep...I love it! I wish I was one! Thanks for the story.

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  2. I've been sleeping terribly the last few nights - not able to turn off the thoughts even when I drift off. Last night I actually tried meditating in bed just to mute the chatter. This week I'm starting a monitor moratorium after 9pm. Maybe that will help.

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    1. Let me know how it goes Erin; I'll try it with you. (as I type this at 9:15!)

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  3. that was really well written. heh. it's interesting to see you descend into the internet.

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    1. Ah yes, the descent has certainly accelerated in the last two months! But I'm enjoying the ride.

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  4. Over the summer, when I'm at home, I practice "good sleep hygiene". I go to sleep before 11, and wake up at 8 feeling wonderful. But when I come back up here, and there's no mother to advise me when to go to bed, I find myself with an endless "to-do list", and everything must be done *tonight*...when in reality, none of it will, and I would have been better off sleeping. I notice this especially because it's been taking me hours to get myself out of bed lately. =/

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    1. Sometimes I wish I had my mom to nag me into good sleep habits! Everything goes better when we take care of ourselves.

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  5. I think the only time I've ever had "good sleep hygiene" was when my house had no internet for two weeks.
    That's...kind of sad and I should probably work on that.

    Maybe you could train Abbe to shut the computer off if you've been on it for too long

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  6. Abbe is just so cute. Who would want to disappoint her?

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What say you?