Meditations on Insomnia
I've had depression and insomnia, and I'll take the depression any night of the week. Of course, the insomnia is often allegedly caused by depression, or stress, or whatever, so I don't get much choice in the matter. I feel fine - I feel tired, exhausted, ready to sleep, as most people like to feel at bedtime - but then I lie in bed and my eyeballs are like the one in the illustration. I have a conversation with my brain that goes something like this:
Me: Um, hey, it's me. Um, I don't mean to complain, since I know you're really busy with lots of stuff as one of my most vital organs and all that, but as you can probably see, it's night time, and I've been awake all day, so if you wouldn't mind terribly -
Brain: Be cool, man. Be cool.
Me: What? I'm cool. I'm fine. I'm just saying it would be nice if we - that is, I - could get some sleep. I don't care if you stay up all night cataloging memories or whatever it is you do, but I need to sleep, if that's all right.
Brain: Just be patient, man.
Me: Hey, I'm patient. I'm totally okay with the fact that under the most ideal of circumstances it takes me at least an hour to get to sleep, whereas I often see people fall asleep in my classes within ten minutes and stay asleep the whole time. I don't even complain about having to wear earplugs every night and still being often woken up by little noises that don't bother anyone else. Maybe I complain sometimes when I have to go to bed and one of the earplugs is missing, but -
Brain: You're complaining.
Me: No, no I'm not. I'm just trying to explain how patient, I am, that's all. But -
Brain: Quit bothering me, will you?
Me: Look, just hear me out for a minute. It's two in the morning. If I fell asleep right this minute I could get six hours of sleep before I have to get up, assuming that you don't decide to wake me up forty-five minutes before my alarm goes off as you have the annoying habit of doing. Six hours isn't quite enough, you know. It's not exactly healthy.
Brain: You should have thought of that before you started staying up till two in the morning on purpose. Summer 2011, remember? That was all you.
Me: Okay... but that was years ago. What does that have to do with right now?
Brain: I'm a creature of habit.
Me: What? Look, it's dark outside, I'm in bed, I've missed several hours of sleep, and I'm tired. Why can't you just reach the logical conclusion and let me sleep?
Brain: I told you, habit. Habits are very powerful. You of all people should know that.
Me: So, three months of going to bed earlier isn't enough to start a new habit?
Brain: Nope.
Me: But accidentally staying up late again for one night is enough to obliterate whatever minuscule progress I've made over those three months.
Brain: Yep.
Me: That doesn't make any sense.
Brain: Who says it has to make sense? That's evolution for you, baby.
Me: I can't think of any evolutionary advantage of being tied to one virtually immutable schedule.
Brain: Me neither, and I'm the smart one. Maybe natural selection just isn't in your favor. Oh well. What can you do?
Me: Well, I've tried a few things. I've tried getting up and pacing around the living room, or even down the street. I've tried showers and warm baths. I've tried light reading and light meals. I've tried clearing my mind of all thoughts and tensing and relaxing all my muscles in sequence. Nothing works. I've tried just counting and clearing all other thoughts, and that works maybe half the time if I don't get bored half to death and give up before reaching at least 150 or so.
Brain: I don't like being cleared of all thoughts.
Me: Well, sorry, but I wouldn't have been driven to it if you'd just let me sleep.
Brain: No can do, man. We've been over this. Just be patient.
Me: This is hurting you too, you know. You can't function properly without enough sleep. You can barely process anything. And then I can't do my schoolwork to the best of my ability.
Brain: There you are, complaining again.
Me: I'm just trying to explain my position. If you'd only -
Brain: Jeez, it's two thirty. Leave me alone and go to sleep.
Me: YOU STUPID @#$% I'M GOING TO @#$% KILL YOU
Brain: See?? See?? There you are, stressing yourself out! And you wonder why you have insomnia!
That's pretty much what happens, minus the actual dialogue. But sometimes I have a less pleasant, albeit blessedly briefer, conversation with my heart.
Heart: Oh, I see you're trying to get to sleep. Let me help you with that by accelerating to three times my normal speed for no freaking reason.
I try breathing deeply, not breathing at all, drinking cold water, and running around the house. Then I skip right to the swearing.
Me: Um, hey, it's me. Um, I don't mean to complain, since I know you're really busy with lots of stuff as one of my most vital organs and all that, but as you can probably see, it's night time, and I've been awake all day, so if you wouldn't mind terribly -
Brain: Be cool, man. Be cool.
Me: What? I'm cool. I'm fine. I'm just saying it would be nice if we - that is, I - could get some sleep. I don't care if you stay up all night cataloging memories or whatever it is you do, but I need to sleep, if that's all right.
Brain: Just be patient, man.
Me: Hey, I'm patient. I'm totally okay with the fact that under the most ideal of circumstances it takes me at least an hour to get to sleep, whereas I often see people fall asleep in my classes within ten minutes and stay asleep the whole time. I don't even complain about having to wear earplugs every night and still being often woken up by little noises that don't bother anyone else. Maybe I complain sometimes when I have to go to bed and one of the earplugs is missing, but -
Brain: You're complaining.
Me: No, no I'm not. I'm just trying to explain how patient, I am, that's all. But -
Brain: Quit bothering me, will you?
Me: Look, just hear me out for a minute. It's two in the morning. If I fell asleep right this minute I could get six hours of sleep before I have to get up, assuming that you don't decide to wake me up forty-five minutes before my alarm goes off as you have the annoying habit of doing. Six hours isn't quite enough, you know. It's not exactly healthy.
Brain: You should have thought of that before you started staying up till two in the morning on purpose. Summer 2011, remember? That was all you.
Me: Okay... but that was years ago. What does that have to do with right now?
Brain: I'm a creature of habit.
Me: What? Look, it's dark outside, I'm in bed, I've missed several hours of sleep, and I'm tired. Why can't you just reach the logical conclusion and let me sleep?
Brain: I told you, habit. Habits are very powerful. You of all people should know that.
Me: So, three months of going to bed earlier isn't enough to start a new habit?
Brain: Nope.
Me: But accidentally staying up late again for one night is enough to obliterate whatever minuscule progress I've made over those three months.
Brain: Yep.
Me: That doesn't make any sense.
Brain: Who says it has to make sense? That's evolution for you, baby.
Me: I can't think of any evolutionary advantage of being tied to one virtually immutable schedule.
Brain: Me neither, and I'm the smart one. Maybe natural selection just isn't in your favor. Oh well. What can you do?
Me: Well, I've tried a few things. I've tried getting up and pacing around the living room, or even down the street. I've tried showers and warm baths. I've tried light reading and light meals. I've tried clearing my mind of all thoughts and tensing and relaxing all my muscles in sequence. Nothing works. I've tried just counting and clearing all other thoughts, and that works maybe half the time if I don't get bored half to death and give up before reaching at least 150 or so.
Brain: I don't like being cleared of all thoughts.
Me: Well, sorry, but I wouldn't have been driven to it if you'd just let me sleep.
Brain: No can do, man. We've been over this. Just be patient.
Me: This is hurting you too, you know. You can't function properly without enough sleep. You can barely process anything. And then I can't do my schoolwork to the best of my ability.
Brain: There you are, complaining again.
Me: I'm just trying to explain my position. If you'd only -
Brain: Jeez, it's two thirty. Leave me alone and go to sleep.
Me: YOU STUPID @#$% I'M GOING TO @#$% KILL YOU
Brain: See?? See?? There you are, stressing yourself out! And you wonder why you have insomnia!
That's pretty much what happens, minus the actual dialogue. But sometimes I have a less pleasant, albeit blessedly briefer, conversation with my heart.
Heart: Oh, I see you're trying to get to sleep. Let me help you with that by accelerating to three times my normal speed for no freaking reason.
I try breathing deeply, not breathing at all, drinking cold water, and running around the house. Then I skip right to the swearing.
Learning
I prayed about five hundred times for relief from this problem, with no result, and began to grow more than a bit resentful toward God. Eventually I sought a priesthood blessing and was told that it wasn't His will to heal me right there and then. Oh, I thought, suddenly feeling humbled and foolish to have not considered that possibility. But the blessing promised that healing would come as I drew closer to my Heavenly Father, and as I met certain people and took advantage of medical stuff. Being foolish, the only thing I really took away from this was the "no" part of the answer, and I didn't act on the rest.
A few months later the situation was deteriorating with no end in sight, and threatening to ruin my life I sought another blessing to help me cope with it and not die. This one said, among other things, "Usually when God allows our physical needs to go unmet, it means there's something He would have us learn." That was a real eye-opener, but I wasn't sure how I could learn from this. It wasn't like a personal weakness that was my fault, but rather a physical ailment I seemed to have little direct control over. But a couple nights later as I was still having insomnia and pondered what I could learn from this, I had three ideas. I wrote them down on a scrap paper and suddenly revelation was flooding into my mind. Here's what I wrote down:
*Come unto Christ when ye are weary (and always) (everyone gets weary)
*there are many forms of suffering
*be grateful for ubiquitous things like sleep (and air)
*I have weaknesses that I may be humble
*one can have a fulfilling life without perfect circumstances
*be patient, endure with dignity, and accept/trust in the Lord's will
*don't stress about things beyond your control
*never stop working towards important goals
*write down revelation before you forget it
*share your suffering to ease others'
*forget yourself and go to work
*invisible factors can have a huge impact [e.g. in causing insomnia]
*control your temper
*find joy in every moment
*don't assume malicious intent [i.e. when people wake me up]
*use time to plan and meditate
*beware of temptation
*some sorrow the eye can't see [like being really tired]
*the Lord's timing is best for us
*every trial has stuff to teach
*forgive thoughtless mistakes [e.g. when people wake me up]
*God shows forth his power [by] keeping me going [without sleep]
*accepting His will means really accepting His will [as opposed to saying "Thy will be done" and then expecting to get what you want anyway]
*the fridge is still running [because it made these weird clunking noises and according to Google could have quit anytime, but it never did]
*insomnia sucks
A few months later the situation was deteriorating with no end in sight, and threatening to ruin my life I sought another blessing to help me cope with it and not die. This one said, among other things, "Usually when God allows our physical needs to go unmet, it means there's something He would have us learn." That was a real eye-opener, but I wasn't sure how I could learn from this. It wasn't like a personal weakness that was my fault, but rather a physical ailment I seemed to have little direct control over. But a couple nights later as I was still having insomnia and pondered what I could learn from this, I had three ideas. I wrote them down on a scrap paper and suddenly revelation was flooding into my mind. Here's what I wrote down:
*Come unto Christ when ye are weary (and always) (everyone gets weary)
*there are many forms of suffering
*be grateful for ubiquitous things like sleep (and air)
*I have weaknesses that I may be humble
*one can have a fulfilling life without perfect circumstances
*be patient, endure with dignity, and accept/trust in the Lord's will
*don't stress about things beyond your control
*never stop working towards important goals
*write down revelation before you forget it
*share your suffering to ease others'
*forget yourself and go to work
*invisible factors can have a huge impact [e.g. in causing insomnia]
*control your temper
*find joy in every moment
*don't assume malicious intent [i.e. when people wake me up]
*use time to plan and meditate
*beware of temptation
*some sorrow the eye can't see [like being really tired]
*the Lord's timing is best for us
*every trial has stuff to teach
*forgive thoughtless mistakes [e.g. when people wake me up]
*God shows forth his power [by] keeping me going [without sleep]
*accepting His will means really accepting His will [as opposed to saying "Thy will be done" and then expecting to get what you want anyway]
*the fridge is still running [because it made these weird clunking noises and according to Google could have quit anytime, but it never did]
*insomnia sucks
