I suck at sleeping. I get insomnia quite often. When I don’t have insomnia, I’m having crazy, epic-like dreams while I sleep. Dreams that are so vivid and intricate that when I wake up, I feel as if I have been up all night watching HBO. Dreams that are usually quite negative, and sometimes, downright disturbing. Although two nights ago I dreamt I bought a car from Donald Trump. The strange thing was, he paid me. He said, “Heather, you drive a hard bargain,” and handed me an envelope filled with crisp $100 bills and a certificate for a free facial at the Trump Tower salon. Which I could really use, by the way.
My sleep problems began after Noelle was born five years ago. Since then, sleep has been the proverbial carrot dangling in my face. And it’s not that motherhood has been the only culprit – there was my ex-husband’s “health” problems, divorce, depression, etc. I can actually name the date of my last decent night’s sleep.
The last time I woke up feeling… wow, rested: December 24, 2004.
Since then, I have been struggling for a decent night’s sleep, without the aid of sleeping pills. I am afraid of getting hooked on them. Recently the insomnia has gotten so bad that I’ve gone nights with just an hour of sleep. Consecutive nights. The lack of rest is showing in my appearance, and manifesting itself in an inability to concentrate and think clearly. I stare at the same piece of paper for what seems like hours, trying to FOCUS, FOCUS, FOCUS. Only to say to myself, uh, what am I looking at? Huh? What was I doing?
There are some factors that, if I had any common sense, I would address to keep from exacerbating the sleep problem. Like, caffeine. I drink wayyyyyyyy too much Diet Coke. So I’ve tried to stop that after 3pm. Another: watching TV in bed. Also: no exercise.
What really kills me, is the husband. John can fall asleep in seconds. Literally. He can be talking and mid-sentence, there’s a snore. He likes to deny it but it is so true. And I am incredibly jealous. I fantasize about how I would feel, what I would be like, if I could only sleep like him.
So, I’ve reduced the caffeine intake, and stopped watching TV at bedtime. It has helped some. Now the exercise…. well, I can’t change overnight, can I??? Okay, so my elliptical machine arrived two weeks ago, and I’ve yet to use it. Tomorrow, I say. After I have a good night’s sleep. Except there NEVER IS ONE.
So I’m just going to have to bite the bullet, take a hit in the ass, what have you, and get on the damn elliptical already. And enough with the cheese and the carbs. My ever-expanding ass is taking on a life of it’s own, and summer is fast approaching. Never mind that the consistency of my blood is like Crisco, my cholesterol is so high. My grandmother died of a heart attack at 48, so it’s not like I have genetics on my side. If I follow her model, I’ve got only 15 years left.
I need someone to hold me accountable. Someone to push me, someone I can give a giant BITE ME to when they nag me about exercising and eating right. Better yet, I need a miracle sleep-diet pill hybrid and a plastic surgeon. Know anyone?