For most of my life I’ve suspected that I was born with a different internal clock than most of the rest of the world. My mother told me that I was a “good” baby; that I slept through the night practically from day one. The problem was that she had to wake me in the morning just to keep me on a schedule that fit in with the rest of the family. Otherwise, I’d have reverted to a schedule of my own based on a thirty-hour day – one that grew progressively more and more elongated as each new day arrived.
I’ve never been certain if she was right about the timing, but I do know that I’ve always been a sleepy-head and a night-owl; slow to awaken in the morning and unready for sleep at night. Nothing seemed to affect what appeared to be just a habit. Mother nagged and threatened, just to get me out of bed in time to dress for school every morning until I graduated from high school. Four years of 7:30 a.m. college classes failed to get me into the habit of arising early. I grew immune to alarm clocks and, after the first few weeks, didn’t even hear them. Later, the cries of hungry babies could drag me reluctantly out of bed long enough to change and feed them before diving back under the covers for another few hours.
Most people would learn to go to bed earlier in order to get more sleep, but after a busy day I have always been glad to have those quiet late hours to myself for uninterrupted reading, painting, sewing and other solitary pursuits. Late nights were, and still are, my most creative hours of the day.
There are times when, even though physically tired, I can’t seem to fall asleep. I call that annoying condition “busy-brain” and the harder I try to combat it, the more stubborn it gets. My sister once advised me to concentrate on my big toenail and shut everything else out of my mind. I’d grow drowsy and nearly fall asleep until the toenail shifted to the toe, then my whole foot and I’d start thinking about shoes and slippers, then shopping for shoes, the state of my checking account, my part-time job, did I have enough study time to keep my grades up and qualify for the scholarship money I needed to stay in college? Such serious matters definitely had the power to keep me wide awake until the sky turned gray and I’d realize that if I fell asleep now, I’d still be asleep at noon. I tried counting backward like they ask you to do when going under anesthetic before surgery; or reciting the alphabet backward, but without the assistance of the anesthetic, the concentration simply increased my brain activity and made me more wakeful.
I tried eliminating from my diet all the things that might make falling asleep difficult. Giving up coffee, tea, colas and chocolate was a big sacrifice and didn’t help much. I really missed the chocolate which had always been, for me, Nature’s tranquilizer. It sets the endorphins flowing and promotes a feeling of well-being. Coffee had been a contributing factor to my occasionally high blood pressure, and I gave it up more or less permanently, but that wasn’t enough to help me sleep. What really kept me awake was all the things that went racing through my head as I lay staring at the ceiling in the dark and telling myself to quit worrying about all those things that are easy to ignore during the day.
I’ve been told that reading in bed is a no-no that prevents us from drifting off to sleep, but I have found that it actually helps me to stop thinking about the day’s petty annoyances and distractions, making it easier to clear out my mind and give me a fighting chance at sleep. Until, that is, I happen to get to a particularly exciting or interesting part of the book and can’t resist turning the pages to see what happens next. Alas, I’ve been known to keep reading until I reach the end or the sun sneaks through my bedroom window – whichever comes first. And, as reading has always been one of my greatest pleasures, giving it up is out of the question. So, I wake up many mornings clutching a book and the bedside light still on, but with a clear conscience. And, I can finish the book tomorrow night rather than worrying about some little unfinished chore.