I do not sleep. Chronic insomnia has plagued me since I was pregnant with my daughter some 11 years ago.
I have tried everything short of an acupuncturist and I even have one of those lined up. St. John’s Wort, Melatonin, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds have been ingested, relaxation techniques have been used and I have one of the most comfortable beds and pillows I have ever rested upon.
For the most part my problem exists because I worry a lot. Sometimes it’s not even the worrying, but rather the constant chatter in my brain. Keeping my cell phone next to my bed helps a little because I can jot notes into it in the middle of the night (using paper and pencil was pretty tough in the dark), but even that doesn’t keep the stress of everyday life at bay.
This weekend, we took a trip to my in-laws’ house. They live in a small, southern Ohio town in a big, old house with gorgeous woodwork and a great front porch. One of those roomy porches, with a swing and everything. Sigh.
They live across the street from an enormous park where my husband and I walked the dogs and let the kids play until they were so filthy I barely recognized them. We drank some beer, ate homemade food, played cards with the kids and watched football.
At one point on Saturday, my body sunk into their comfortable couch and before I knew it, I woke myself up with my own snoring. Classy, right? Whatever. I don’t even care. My in-laws had 11 kids, so they’ve learned to tune things out. I allowed myself to doze off and on the entire afternoon.
That night, as I was checking e-mail, I fell asleep at the computer desk. I stayed that way, slumped over with my head on my arm, until my husband came to check on me for fear I had died. That’s how much I don’t sleep. My spouse saw me with my eyes closed and thought I had passed away.
And, yesterday after church I told everyone I was going to lie down. I climbed the steps and tucked myself into bed…and I went to sleep. I napped, people! That simply doesn’t happen.
At my in-laws’ there is no agenda, no laundry, no meetings and no work. My kids can play freely without me looking at my watch so we can hurry off to the next thing on our schedule.
I have always said I would dislike living outside the city, because I would be too bored. There just wouldn’t be enough to do.
Apparently I’ve been wrong all this time, because not having enough to do was exactly what I needed.