I used to deal with bouts of insomnia. By bouts I mean, from about 1993 to 2007 and from last week to this week. When I was in third grade, I remember staying awake all night thinking about things like gender inequity and tapping rhythms with my finger nails on my dresser to pass the time. In junior high, I listened to “Night Flight” on my Walkman, followed by the really bad overnight radio DJ’s. In high school I counted my change, rocked out to Third Eye Blind and tried (very unsuccessfully) to write screen plays while I waited for the rest of my world to wake up. Alarm clocks, removal of my covers, yelling and florescent lights were no match to the depth of slumber I would slip into, just before dawn. In college, it was not a problem…. well, it was not an uncommon problem I guess. After college… a problem again.
Finally a few years ago, I developed a relaxation routine, combining everything I knew about rhythmic breathing, muscle relaxation, calming imagery and sleep cycles and I said farewell to my sleepless nights and comatose mornings… until… the last several days. I feel I have been reunited with an old friend, except not in a good way. I have been struck by the familiarity of the tossing and turning and turning again, and getting up, and pacing, and thinking about not thinking, and trying to relax, and trying to get comfortable, and not being comfortable (at all). I had forgotten the sound of multiple ticking clocks and the feeling of time slipping away, yet standing still. Even my relaxation routines are failing me. Our precious little fetus-baby has been waking me up at 2:30a.m. on the dot and keeping me awake till about 6- when I finally slip into a deeeeeep sleep. My alarm begins sounding at 6:30, but I don’t even notice till around 7:30…when I should be leaving for work.
I’m exhausted, irritable, swollen and my tummy hurts- really bad today. Pregnancy… you don’t amuse me.