Insomnia

Insomnia

I've never been a person who had much trouble sleeping. In fact in general my sleep problems have tended to lean more towards the side of narcolepsy than insomnia. I have fallen asleep in more church services, long classes, and car rides than I'd like to admit. And I am one of those classic nodders when I fall asleep in public. Like those stork toys with the hats that dip their beak into a cup, I lean forward and snap back for several minutes before someone pokes me. At one time my near narcolepsy almost cost me my life. I was driving home from a long escape weekend at my parents. I was on 316, which all Georgians know is the most monotonous stretch of highway on the planet, when I lost consciousness. It was late afternoon and the sun was still up. I was only 15 minutes out of Athens. I had been singing extremely loudly to the radio the whole way, keeping myself active and alert. Then a song came on I didn't care for and I shut my mouth for the first time in an hour. Within moments my lids were heavy and I awoke to the alarming bumps of my car drifting into the median of Georgia 316. Shocked and terrified my right arm ripped out a correction to my trajectory of doom. Unfortunately, as I had always known driving was not an instinctual gift for me. I overcorrected and my red Toyota corolla spun out wildly back into the road and across both lanes. My legs felt numb as jello as I swung like a lifeless rag doll, helpless to change my own fate. My little plastic vehicle slammed into a tree, by grace or luck I was not hurt. The car had spun so that the trunk of the car was stretched around the tree instead of the engine. I got out slowly, an elderly man came up to me concerned and inquisitive. "You were texting weren't you honey?" "No sir I fell asleep at the wheel". I walked around like a zombie trying to gather the pieces of my car as if I could put them back on.

Recently while preparing for my masters exams I developed my first real case of insomnia. I had experienced little bouts of it on special occasions growing up, but always as part of joyous anticipation. Christmas eves for me were magical nights of tradition and joy but rarely full of sleep. I would lay in bed next to my sister and hallucinate reindeer noises or the light of Rudolph's nose in the distant night sky. For many years the first day of school produced the same effect for me. I would lay in my bed anticipating the new sliver of my life story which was about to start. My outfit for the next day perfectly laid out with matching shoes and a coordinated makeup plan in mind. This time was all together different. I knew my time was running out so I filled all moments of the day with information and analysis, hoping to over prepare and conquer my dragon the classic middle child way. Underestimate your skills and over prepare. Every night I lay in between the aged soft floral peach sheets on my bed to no avail. I rolled from side to side in fetal position, then I would lay face down in the pillow. I would even lay flat as a dead lady placing my hands on my hip bones that protrude when I lay down, no matter how many stress pounds I put on. I have spent all my life listening to things as i slept to keep my mind from being frightened by the miscellaneous sounds of night. I put on my Tina Fey audiobook (which i know by heart basically) for several nights with no luck. Finally following my mother's advice, I tried to sleep in silence. Never has my mind or imagination been more active. I would start by wishing it was morning so I could go ahead and eat my raisin bran and get to work. Then my mind slowly drifted to nostalgia mode, as I imagined all the boys I have recently cared for. I even danced beautifully with one in my mind (something I have never done). I remembered the sensations of their presences and then the sadness of their inevitable exits. My mind eventually floated on into its meaningless night track and I slept for a few hours. It's funny that it took insomnia for me to truly experience the beauty of daydreams. Doors that opened back into my past, and painted with my feelings scenes more lovely and less real than their realities.