Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: insomnia

One last post about sleep–and a plan! (Maybe)

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I’m back to talk about sleep one more time. Here is the post from yesterday in which I talked about sleep, the lack thereof, and how hard it is for me to get said sleep. I’m still getting over my unwise decision to try to stay up 72 hours without researching what could happen if I had actually managed it. I mean, sleep deprivation is considered a method of torture for a reason. I will say I think it’s really funny that I was mainlining coffee when Ian messaged me asking if it was dangerous for me to stay awake for that long. I quickly looked it up and realized it was, then went directly to bed. I fell asleep in less than a minute.

I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: caffeine does not affect me. I can drink it up to the point of going to bed, and I’ll still be able to fall asleep. As I just noted. In fact, I don’t know why I drink it in the ‘morning’ except that’s what you’re supposed to do.

I have realized that there is just no quick solution. Nor is there any easy solution. I can’t just snap fingers and suddenly be able to sleep well and at the proper time. It’s wishful thinking. I also can’t simply force myself to go to bed at a better time. I’ve proven that that isn’t going to happen, either.

It’s the worst feeling in the world to sit there watching the clock inch forward, knowing I should be in bed, but not doing anything to actually move towards that goal. It doesn’t help that I’m chanting in my brain that I should be going to bed. The other weird thing is how time seems to draaaaag and then suddenly leaps ahead. Time is weird. It just is.

I think another reason I’m having a hard time is that I’m just tired (no pun intended) of dealing with my sleep. I’ve been doing it all my life, and while it’s gotten slightly better and then got a whole lot better after my medical crisis (before slowly sliding back into bad territory). I am resentful that I’ve put so much effort into it for so little return.

On the third hand, it’s been at pretty disparate times, and I may not have put enough concentrated effort into it. I’m a pretty impatient person in some ways, and me trying to find ways to sleep was one of those ways. I did try so many things, but I don’t know if I gave any of them enough time to stick. The problem was that there were some negative results to many of the options, which made me reluctant to keep trying. For instance:


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I’m all about the (lack of) sleep

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Before I start, let me just link to my post about sleep from yesterday here. I don’t want to stress about it, so here it is. When I was in college, I used to sleep four hours a night and then crash for fifteen hours my first night home. It was as if my body was saying, “Oh, I can sleep now? I’ll show you sleep then!” I’m sure it’s quite common–the body breaknig down when it’s safe to do so. I mean, you HAVE to sleep at some point or the body will rebel.

I bring this up because I woke up at 5:30 p.m. today. I was very disoriented and shocked. That was ten hours of sleep–which does not happen to me unless I’m sick. But I’ve really been skimping on my sleep the past month or so, and this was my body’s way of saying that it needed more.

I did not know why my alarm did not ring because I had set it before I went to bed. Or rather, I turned it on and just assumed it was set correctly because it was the day before. I’m talking about an ancient manual clock that I’ve had for probably three decades. I have no idea how it went from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Side Note: I have this weird thing that I do–I set all my manual clocks in the house (and my car) to different times. I have no idea why or how that started, but I’ve been doing it for decades. So the fact that my alarm clock was set at 8 p.m. meant that it was acttually set for 7:17 p.m. Why? No clue. I’ve been doing it forever, and it’s something I consider a harmless idiosyncrasy.

Side Note to the side note: One could spend their whole life trying to fix their flaws. The list is endless, and there’s always something that can be improved. However, something I learned a while back was that there’s a difference between an indiosyncrasy and a flaw. The latter should be worked on whereas the former is fine. Really, it is. We all have things that make us unique, and many of those things are harmless. My having my manual clocks at different times is one of those things.

Another thing I used to do was if I saw one of my clocks being on the quarter hour, I had to count to twenty-five as quickly as possible. Even as I was doing it, I realized that it was silly and not something I should be doing. My therapist at the time asked me what I thought would happen if I didn’t count. I didn’t know, but I was sure it would be terrible.


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One last (hah) post about sleep

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I have one more post to write about sleep. That’s a lie , of course. I’ll probably dealing with this all my life. Let’s just say I want to write another post especially because I foolishly decided to try staying awake for 72 hours. I had done it before at my then-therapist’s suggestion. I only lasted 62 hours before I succumbed to sleep. This time, I had reached 46 hours and told Ian I was trying for 72 hours. He said, “That sounds dangerous.”

Fortunately, I listened to him and Googled it. Of course it was dangerous–or at least ill-advised. Sleep deprivation was used as a torture method, for fuck’s sake. I thanked him for saying that and told him I’d go right to bed–which I did. Despite having drank around 15 oz of coffee and washed my hair. As I’ve said before, caffeine doesn’t do anything to me.

I woke up to a few messages from Ian asking me to let him know I was ok when I got up. I was going to do that, anyway, and I was touched that he was concerned about me.

I had already done most of my Taiji/Bagua before going to bed so it was an interesting day. I actually felt pretty good. I got roughly six hours of sleep, but it was solid. I did not wake up, which was unusual for me. And I felt pretty invigorated when I woke up. I will not be doing that again. I should have researched it before I tried it, but I was desperate. I put up with something for far too long and then when I do decide to do something about it, I rush in when I should maybe tread cautiously.

I am already up way too late. Ideally, I would like to go from 3 a.m. to 11 a.m. K and I have talked about it in the past. Both of us are night owls (or at least were), but she had to get up at normal people time because she was a teacher. I, on the other hand, worked flexible hours at home, so I could go to bed and get up whenever I wanted. I’m not sure that’s a good thing because maybe if I wsa forced to get up, I would be more inclined to do it on time.

I’m lying. Or at the very least, I’m fooling myself. That was not what happened whenI was on a more rigid schedule. I’m talking about being in college and having classes at certain times. In my first year, I had a 7:45 a.m. class, which was torture to me. I did not go to bed until 3:30or 4 a.m., which meant I got about 3 1/2 hours sleep a night. Which was not even barely enough. Back  then, I was getting an average of five hours a night, which also wasn’t enough–but it was more than 3 1/2.


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Sleep, perchance to well, sleep

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My sleep is fucked. It’s big time fucked. In fact, I should be trying to sleep pnow, but I am not doing it, obviously.

I have always had a bad relationship with sleep. Fraught, I might even say.  It started when I was a little kid because I just could not sleep during the ‘regular’ hours when a kid was supposed too sleep.

I found out it was in part a thyroid issue, but getting that taken care of did not correct my sleep. Fast-forward decades later, and through Taiji, I managed to get six-and-a-half hours a night and only waking up twice during the night.

It wasn’t great, but it was the best I had ever had in my life.

Then I had my medical crisis when after I turned fifty. The one plus of that harrowing experience was that it righted my sleep schedule. I was so drugged up in the hoospital and exhausted from what I went through, I slept nearly all the time while I was in the hospital.

When I got home, I would go to bed at ten in the evening and get up at six. Then, my schedule slowly started reverting to my norm. Ideally, I would like to go to bed around three or four and get up eight hours later.

I keep blowing past that time, though.

I wish I had gotten it checked out when I was a kid. I know I could now, and I should, but it’s difficult to get me to the doctor. I do my once a year because I have to get my blood checked for my thyroid, but that’s about it.

A friend suggested that I do something drastic to get my sleep back on track. I have thought about going to see my two besties in Philly as a way of disrupting what I have going on. I have not flown since my medical crisis. Well, since before that, really, as it was preceded by the pandemic. The last time I flew was in 2019, and I’m not sure if I want to do it again.

I hate flying for several reasons. One, people like to talk to me regardless of if I want to talk to them or not. I have that kind of face, I guess, that just invites conversation. In addition, I’ve had more than one person ask me to switch seats, which I hate.. I specifically get a ticket as soon as I can because I need an aisle seat. I need to be able to sleep without being disturbed–well, I did in te past. Why? I get motion sickness when I travel. Back when I used to take Dramamine, I would sleep for the entire flight–even when I flew from LA to Taiwan.


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Don’t sleep on this

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One thing I don’t talk about often any longer is my sleep issue. In part, it’s because I no longer have one. Well, actually, that’s a large part. It would be boring for me to write a thousand-plus words about how well I sleep every few months. But, a retrospective of how I got here? I’m all over that!

I had undiagnosed hyperthyroidism. In tandem, I never liked to go to bed until midnight or so, even when I was a kid. When I was six or seven, I would be put to bed at whatever time. Maybe eight or so? Way too early. I would stuff a towel or t-shirt in the crack under my door so I could read until midnight or so.

I never liked sleep and used to have night mares all the time. I was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism when I was thirteen or so, and had my thyroid destroyed when I was fourteen. That swung me from hyperthyroid to hypothyroid, but it didn’t make me sleep any longer per night. When I was in college, I slept maybe four hours a night. One time, I was so tired, I could not find my portable alarm clock anywhere in my door room. When I opened my mini-fridge to grab a Diet Pepsi, there was the alarm clock. I had no memory of putting it in there.

When I’d go home for vacation, I would sleep for fifteen hours during the first night home. And I’d be sick for the whole time I was home. My body was not happy with me. At all.

when I started Taiji roughly fifteen years ago, it helped me with sleep. I slowly started bulking up the hours. Before that, I tried so many remedies, I’ve lost count. Lavender in the bath (which is how I found out I was allergic to it), St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root (which made me suicidal), warm milk, sleeping pills (I could not wake up, not even after we halved the dosage and halved it again. Asian people, especially Asian women need drastically less of a dosage than white men do), meditation, exercise, a dreamcatcher, and probably other things I’ve forgotten. The only thing that helped was sex, but sleeping with someone hurt, so that was probably a wash.

Taiji was the only thing to help. By a year ago, I had worked myself up to 6 1/2 hours a night. I tried to work on when I got that sleep as well, but that was hard, too. I have always liked sleeping later in the night. I’m able to do so because my work schedule is flexible. At my peak, I would go to bed around six in the morning and get up at noon.


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Free to breathe

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I have a problem doing what I need to be doing. In this case, mailing in my absentee ballot. I’m registered to vote and requested my ballot in the beginning of September. I didn’t get my ballot and didn’t get my ballot so I checked the SoS website. It said it was sent September 18th. What??? I only checked my mail once a week (Sunday when I went to put out the trash) and there it was–two weeks after they said they sent it. Which meant it took at least five or six days to get to me–which shouldn’t be the case.

Then, I set it on my counter and didn’t do anything about it for two weeks because that’s how I roll. We had a bit of snow yesterday and it was predicted we’d get 5 – 8 inches today (now downgraded to 4 – 6) and it was getting uncomfortably close to the election for my taste. So, I went to mail it (I don’t trust my mailbox for good reason) and it felt so damn good to be driving with the windows down in 30 degree weather. I felt alive and refreshed; I had forgotten how much I loved doing that.

By the way, voting in my small city is so easy. I just Google candidates for about fifteen minutes and bob’s your uncle. Even for ‘non-partisan’ (yes, in quotes) positions, it’s fairly easy to tell where they stand on issues. If the first thing they mention is taxes, they’re not the candidate for me. If there’s no mention of social justice (especially with the current events being what they are), hard no. If there’s no challenger such as with judges, I don’t vote. I’m not feeling great about this year’s election for many reasons, but I knew I had to vote.

Being in the car with the window down, the brisk wind reddening my cheek, that felt good. Now, I’m on snow watch and it’s coming down hard. I can feel my soul expanding as I watch it fall. Oh, this is another reason I am not good with people. I love winter. I love snow and the cold. When the weather drops below forty, I feel more alive. Other people get SAD in the winter; I get it in the summer. Or rather, I get irrationally angry when the temperature rises about seventy. Put me in zero degrees with my weighted ‘cool’ blanket and a mug of dairy-free hot chocolate with my cat on my lap? Hell to the motherfucking yes!


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I am done with sleep

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My sleep has been shit.

I say this as if it’s news, but it’s not really. My sleep has been shit all my life for varying reasons. I had gotten into a semi-regular sleeping habit recently of going to bed by 2 am and getting up around 8:30*. Then, I got sick again as is my wont and my sleep schedule got all fucked up again. The sleep time started getting pushed back further and further until I found myself going to bed at 5 a.m. Then, two days ago, I could not stay up past 11:30 p.m. I crashed, but kept waking up every few hours. I finally got up at 6:30 a.m. or so, and I felt shittier than if I had gone to bed at my regular time.

If I could have one wish come true, it would be that I could get a solid eight hours of sleep a night. That I could sleep without tossing and turning for a half hour first. That I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding uncomfortably fast. That I wouldn’t have nightmares, or more recently, anxiety dreams. That Shadow wouldn’t be in my face howling when I woke up in the morning/afternoon. That I would feel actually rested when I woke up. That my immediate response wouldn’t be, “God, I wish I could sleep forever.”

Some of that has to do with depression, of course. I don’t want to be alive, and that makes it harder to get up and go about my day. There was a program on MPR (or perhaps NPR) about suicide and how to talk to someone with suicidal ideation. The doctor said you had to first find out why the person was feeling suicidal. She mentioned there was a difference between someone who coped with the thoughts on a daily basis and someone who might have those feelings in response to a bad situation. She said in the former, it doesn’t help to tell them it’s going to be ok or to look at the bright side. She said it made them feel more isolated and as if nobody understood them. I wanted to shout an ‘amen’ from the rafters because fuck that bullshit.


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