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.
Here is the story I always tell because it is an indication of my mindset at the time. One day, after I got up, I could not find my portable alarm clock. For some reason, I always remember that it was lilac-colored–probably beacuse that’s so not me now. I usually had it on my desk, but it wasn’t there. I looked for it for about five minutes, but then gave up because I had to get ready for class. I opened my mini-fridge to grab a Diet Pepsi, and there was my alarm clock.
I put it on the sink by the door (the farthest point away from my bed) so I could not do anything hinky with it. You would think that would be enough to get me to change my sleep schedule, but you would be wrong. I have struggled with it since, and it’s only gotten worse in the last few months.
I would say I wonder why, but I don’t. Wonder, I mean. Why not? Because I know why it is. It’s because of the siege of Minneapolis that happened 2-4 months ago. I was not in the middle of it, but it still deeply affected me as it did all people in the Twin Citiesand surrounding suburbs. The kid who was taken was in the suburb right next to me–which means about five minutes.
I was as safe as I could be in my neighborhood (super progressive), but if I went five minutes in any direction, it was a dramatically different situation. My brother and I had a robust discussion about whether or not we should take our passports with us when we went out. He was adamant we should, while I was more unsure. The ICE agents were taking documents and not always giving them back (or making you go through hell to get them back). They were also taking people into custody, interrogating them for who knows how long, and then dumping them on the streets in the middle of nowhere without any of their belongings.
It really was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. Bring your passport, and you might get it taken from you. Don’t bring it, and you might get in trouble because you can’t prove you’re a citizen. Given that I’m Asian American, that wasa particular concern of mine. My brother told his kids to bring theirs when they went out.
It’sreally hard to convey the fear, panic, and anger that was permeating the Twin Cities during those months. That’s what being in an occupied city does to you. My sleep, while never great, took a nosedive during that time. It has not recovered, and in fact, has only gotten worse. The last month has beencatastrophe. I was on the verge of giving up, which was why I decided to try the radical experiment of staying up for 72 hours. I will say that in the time i stayed awake, I did take several micro-naps of five to seven minutes at a time. Not on purpose, but just because I was so tired. I didn’t even have to be lying down for it to happen.
I’m going to have to think of another way to deal with my sleep issues. The problem is that I’m all out of ideas. I mean, if I weren’t, then I would not have tried the ridiculous idea of staying up for 72 hours (again, big thanks to Ian for voicing his concerns). I’m afraid I know the answer, actually, but it’s just not what I want to do. I’ll get more into it tomorrow.