Insomnia
Mine was at its worst in Moncton in 2015. I was committed to eight weeks of radiation treatment, and after two weeks, I slept restlessly, if at all. Some of the other residents of the hospice were worse off than me. They got up at all hours of the night and paced the floors downstairs, nursing their wounds, both mental and physical, searching for the peace and the sleep that eluded them. I never went down to join them. My case was different. All cases are slightly different. In spite of this society’s attempts at social engineering, each of us is an individual and we deal with our own problems in our own way.
In my case, the need to pee during the night dominated my sleep. I would sleep in ninety minute cycles, then get up and visit the bathroom, then return to bed for another ninety minutes. Sometimes, I was lucky and the cycles went for two hours, or two and a half hours. I rarely got more than three hours sleep. Upon returning to bed, I would often just lie there, remembering, thinking, musing, hoping, waiting for sleep to come. Often my cycle would reject the sleep I needed, and I just lay there waiting until I was ready to pee again. These were not great times. Luckily I never fell asleep so deeply that I wet the bed. Some did, but I was one of the lucky ones and managed to keep my bedding clean.
During this time, I learned to divide the night into segments. I thought of the segment that ran from 10:00 pm to 3:00 am as an uphill climb with the initial joy of dropping off to sleep tempered by the knowledge that the urge to urinate would soon be upon me. The segment from 3 am to 4 am was the plateau at the top of the hill: I rarely slept during this period and would look frequently at my clock while the minutes ticked by. Sometimes I would turn on the light and just watch the second hand throbbing slowly round. It was like watching sand sift through an hour glass, or water sift through the fingers: uncontrollable, unstoppable, life just slipping away. I had plenty of time to think and much to think about. I relived my life during those eight weeks and a lot of it was unpleasant as I blamed myself for the situation I was in.
At 4 am, the universe shifted, and I was able to relax and slide downhill into the Land of Winking, Blinking, and Nod. With the urges of the earlier segments fading, I would often get two sound sleeps at this stage, one from 4 to 6 and the other from 6-8. If I was lucky, I would sleep from 4-7, or even 4-7:30 am. These were bonus nights and I awoke after a three hour sleep session to find myself greatly refreshed.
Three years after my treatment, many things have returned to normal However, those sleep patterns have not changed that much. I no longer feel the need to urinate at such regular intervals, but I still dip in and out of those same sleep cycles. They have become a part of my system. The easy part, tired, sleeping from bed-time to about 2:30-3:00. The lying awake, anywhere between 2:30 – 4:30, then the relaxing slip into dreamland, for the last part of the night.
The good thing is that my dreams have changed. I am no longer chased by the ghosts of times past who pace through my night, awake and asleep, to prove that my suffering is due to past moments of childhood iniquities discovered in soulful daily examinations induced by a consciousness of minute sins demanded by the weekly confessional. Now, I dream of many things, of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings, and if the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings. This is much more fun: I find I can now control my dreams, re-think them, and re-write the endings. In my waking periods I do just this, and my dreams adapt and change and become more pleasant as I fall back into sleep. This has turned into a time of great creativity: but that is a tale for another day.
Sleep is one of those mysterious things, seek it and it cannot be found. When I was a little girl my mom taught me to count sounds; now if I count anything brain starts to race! Thanks for sharing Roger.
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I ill do a post today on Westminster Chimes. I’s all about counting … and writing or speaking poems during the sleepless hours!
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I have become a restless sleeper as I’ve gotten older. I do have some of my best ideas at 3 am however! Getting them down on paper is a challenge with our current living arrangements, though. Hopefully I’ll have a more conducive setup for late night writing in our new place.
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Some of my friends use a usb recorder into which you can whisper. I often get up and write in the office by the bedroom. I also find I can memorize much of what I am thinking about and rewrite it the next day. It’s such a creative time!
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Aha! I’ll have to look into that. If I am able to jot down a few key words, it’s usually enough to jog my memory. The trouble is when I have a poem worked out in my head and I lose it by morning. Ala Coleridge! Without the opium! 😃
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What I find is that I “lose the poem” but retain key images and metaphors and the general idea. I often find the rewrite takes a different direction. What I actually write in the night doesn’t always stand up in the daylight, but the early morning inspiration, based on night memory often does.
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That’s a good point! The original idea is just a hazy outline of better things to come. 🙂
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Sometimes the inspiration is just the starting point and the poem / piece flows from there. Just occasionally it is complete ad needs no revision. The problem with revision is that we sometimes revise the inspiration out. That’s why it’s so important to keep those first drafts. They contain the emotion, and that’s what we must retain and sustain with metaphor and imagery.
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Yes, indeed. I keep all my notebooks with even random phrases and lines. Then, I rewrite onto the computer.
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Note books become journals when you are assiduous with them. I keep a pocket note-book at all times, plus a journal on the table in the kitchen. Not a word is lost … if somebody one day is forced to read it, they will find it incredibly boring!
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But what a thorough legacy you will leave behind!
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I am leaving it to the local provincial university. Do not open for 25 years!
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Also!!! Based on your suggestion, I’ve begun keeping a journal – not daily but at least weekly!
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That’s excellent. I have been keeping a journal on a daily basis since 1985. Only occasionally, under pressure of some kind do I miss a day. It’s a great way to keep track of emotions, moods, ideas, and bits of family history.
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I’m definitely seeing the benefits!
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