Yawn

Tired, very tired. I have not been sleeping well and feel that I am suffering from sleep deprivation. I can’t think straight, my work is suffering, my house is a mess, and I am a wreck.

Sleep, I need sleep.

I wrote those words yesterday. What a difference a night makes, a night of sleep. With the help of a much-touted pharmaceutical wonder I was able to get NINE hours of sleep last night. I can’t remember when (if ever) I’ve slept for nine hours. I awoke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle all of the work I haven’t had the energy to pursue of late.

That energetic feeling lasted about an hour and I reverted to my normal self, but oh-well, at least I’m rested. Sleeping felt so good I think I’ll give it another try tonight, but without the prescription sleep aid. I’ll try it on my own tonight, without the “training wheels” and see what happens. Hopefully my body has gotten the hang of it and will do it on its own.

I don’t know if it is a sign of aging or maybe an indicator of too much stress, but lately sleep has been elusive. This is fairly new for me, I’ve never had a difficult time falling asleep or staying asleep. Well, except for when the snoring husband wakes me, but even then I can fall back to sleep once I’ve kicked him in the head and told him to roll over.

I’m afraid my new sleep pattern, or rather – lack of sleep pattern, will become a habit. I’m practicing good sleep hygiene, as prescribed by all of the Google insomnia sites I’ve visited. No television in the bedroom, no exercise or alcohol before bedtime (guess which one I don’t mind eliminating), a dark room, no noise, etc. I’ve given up caffeine after lunch and even tried warm milk and chamomile tea in the evening. Next I’ll have to make a trip to the health food store for melatonin to see if that works or if it is just a new-age snake oil treatment.

When I was a child I tried hard to avoid sleep, refusing naps and holding out until the last possible minute before acquiescing to my appointed bedtime. When I was a teen I stayed up late and slept until mid-afternoon when I could. As a young mother I never got enough sleep because of infant feeding schedules and a most hectic lifestyle. I suppose I’ve always had an odd relationship with sleep, but now I’m developing a relationship with sleeplessness, a relationship I don't want.

The kettle is whistling, the chamomile is calling, and I feel like an old woman complaining about my ailments. Maybe tomorrow I can write about the arthritis in my thumb.