The terror sets in about dark. I can breathe through it, smile at it, or I can succumb to it. It flutters in my chest when the evening sets on and car headlights appear; so in the winter, it begins about five PM. Driving home late and my eyes spy an “OPEN” neon sign, whether at a cafe or an auto parts shop: I get a false start of hopefulness – then I realize once again it’s errata because No, soon everyone will be abed and I’ll be up and alone. Alone. Tick tock. 10 PM rolls around and my family begins to tire; yet my non-sleep hours stretch ahead of me. Baffling, stunning in their aridity, a desert landscape of suffocating sameness.
I have limited options. Lying awake “trying” to sleep for a bit, before watching television programs, the more mind-numbing the better. I learned years ago not to “try” to sleep in the dark for long, nor get up and do a bunch of work and risk re-activating the Mind. I get to be with myself. It’s like the ultimate enforced meditation. Torture at times.
A lot of the addicts and alcoholics I know used to bypass these sleep issues by the use of chemicals. Of course! You can ensure you sleep (i.e. pass out). Or you can stay up for days and fly high, keep that mojo (not a Scientific Term) going so you can work without pain, emotional or physical. A far cry from the image of an addict as a selfish monster, most of those I’ve met in Recovery who were staying up and sleeping little were very earnest in their desire to perform well-intentioned tasks: cleaning the home, working a job or two. The intentions were good, and relatable to any human being, really; but the individual stories can be heartbreaking. A friend of mine told me about a home improvement job he’d been working on for three weeks at the time someone dear to him in the family was dying. He just kept working on this very exacting, very specific task. Clean and sober a few months at the time he tells me, it had pained him to return to the home improvement project and see it for what it was. While using, though, the focus, strength and power he’d felt had kept him going.
This is one of those incidents I might, MIGHT be tempted to say those who aren’t in Recovery, simply do not understand. Coping with sleep is tricky while drinking; try it sober! Tonight I read online: “[A]lcoholics can continue to have sleep problems for many months after they quit drinking […] [P]roblems with sleep onset may be more pronounced than with sleep maintenance […] [M]any former alcoholics had sleep problems that predated the onset of alcohol dependence.”
LOLOL it’s as if someone peered into my noggin and my life the last eight years or so.
As has been true for me for some time, my sleep problems like all of my problems become not “problems” at all, only a lesson I am listening quite intently to. I have already learned a great deal: to wit, a continuing acceptance that I am not a “bad” person, but a sick person. To wit: I did not “cause” my sleep issues, and I may never know why I have them. To wit: I may always have these issues, and I can accept that and no longer feel frightened, angry, obsessed, or depressed. To wit: I can learn how to care for myself with great intelligence and diligence that I might care for others – and for my own self, if ever I have a more protracted illness, or the prescient knowledge of my own death.
My “problems” transmute quickly into not being “problems” at all. Suffering can not be avoided, and I take comfort in that knowledge. Not-sleep is not something to be angry or anxious about; merely another opportunity.
I’m sorry you’re struggling with sleep issues – lack of sleep has such an impact on so many parts of life and persistent lack of sleep can do so much more than just make you cranky or forgetful. My mom’s husband is an alcoholic (though he’d deny it) and he, too, has struggled with sleep issues for years. The two are clearly intertwined, for him. He works 3rd shift, so of course his body’s natural sleep cycle is already disturbed. When he has trouble falling asleep during the day after a night at work (and he often does), he turns to vodka to “help him relax”, and that usually means that he’s had several drinks before he even starts to feel sleepy. And since alcohol is a depressant and he already suffers from untreated depression, he gets more depressed and tries to drink that away, too. Usually he falls asleep and is able to get enough for him to be awake and able to go to work at 11 pm, but it’s had a huge effect on his health. And it’s taken a toll on my mom, who told me last weekend that after recent knee surgery she started driving again before she was supposed to, that she had practiced driving in the circle of their apartment complex, because he was drinking during the day and then would drive to take her to and pick her up from work and she was scared. *sigh*
Anyway, I can understand a little, if from an outsider’s perspective, from the perspective of someone who sees this in a family member. I wish you peaceful, sleep-filled nights in the coming weeks. You deserve them.
@Jen
I’ve learned it’s better not to diagnose someone an alcoholic. They have to decide for themselves! Also, I’d highly recommend Alanon for your family!
Thank you for the well-wishes. I appreciate them.
I love this. Insomnia is a hell of a growth opportunity, when you just let it be.
Alone and awake while the world sleeps, you really do, “turn myself to face me..” Bowie-esque wise.
It’s like a Visspissana boot camp and you didn’t have to leave your home.