Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: insomnia

Don’t sleep on this

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

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

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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