I
would venture to say that at least 4/7 nights a week I get fewer than 3 hours of
sleep. I would also venture to say that I, on average, score roughly 30
hours of sleep per week. How do I function? I truly have no idea, as this is
just how it's always (well, at least for the last 11 years) been. This lack of
sleep is due boils down to two factors:
1. The nightmares. Actually,
I think they can be classified as night terrors. A few excerpts from the
Wikipedia page for night terrors for reference:
·
A night terror, sleep terror or pavor nocturnus is a parasomnia or sleep
disorder, causing feelings of terror or dread, and typically occurs during the
first hours of stage 3-4 non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep.
·
Sleep terrors begin between ages 3 and 12 years and then usually
dissipate during adolescence. In adults, they most commonly occur between the
ages of 20 to 30.
·
Though the frequency and severity vary between individuals, the episodes
can occur in intervals of days or weeks, but can also occur over consecutive
nights or multiple times in one night.
·
The universal feature of night terrors is inconsolability. During night
terror bouts, patients are usually described as "bolting upright"
with their eyes wide open and a look of fear and panic on their face. They will
often scream. Furthermore, they will usually sweat, exhibit rapid respiration,
and have a rapid heart rate (autonomic signs).
·
In some cases, individuals are likely to have even more elaborate motor
activity, such as a thrashing of limbs—which may include punching, swinging, or
fleeing motions. There is a sense that the individual is trying to protect
himself and/or escape from a possible threat which threatens bodily injury.
·
The DSM-IV-TR diagnostic criteria for sleep terror disorder requires:
o
Recurrent periods where the individual abruptly wakes from sleeping with
a scream
o
The individual experiences intense fear and symptoms of autonomic
arousal such as increased heart rate, heavy breathing, and increased
perspiration
o
The individual cannot be soothed or comforted during the episode
o
The individual is unable to remember details of the dream or details of
the episode
o
The occurrence of the sleep terror episode causes clinically significant
distress or impairment in the individual's functioning
I experience all but one
of the details listed above. The only 'symptom' I 'lack' is "the individual
is unable to remember details of the dream or details of the episode". I
remember everything, every time. I can always feel his knee on my throat and
his hand on my wrists, even after I wake up. This is also unfortunate for
Andrew, as he is the recipient of any "thrashing of limbs...punching,
swinging, or fleeing motions" that result from these experiences. Also,
sudden and random screaming, which I can imagine are a bit unsettling to wake
up to so abruptly. Though, he reports the screaming is fairly infrequent. More
often than not, these 'terrors' happen more than once over the course of one
night. Once one occurs, it becomes infinitely more difficult to calm down
enough to even begin convincing myself that it's okay to try and fall back
asleep again. I do, however, count the time that I am experiencing these as
time I am "sleeping".
2. I simply can't convince
myself to fall asleep. I know what's more than likely going to happen when I do
fall asleep, so I begin to panic before I've even fallen asleep. I think this
goes along with the typical symptoms of PTSD, all of which I experience on a
weekly (if not daily) basis:
·
Exposure to a stressful event or situation (either short or long
lasting) of exceptionally threatening or catastrophic nature, which is likely
to cause pervasive distress in almost anyone.
·
Persistent remembering or "reliving" the stressor by intrusive
flash backs, vivid memories, recurring dreams, or by experiencing distress when
exposed to circumstances resembling or associated with the stressor.
·
Actual or preferred avoidance of circumstances resembling or associated
with the stressor (not present before exposure to the stressor).
·
Inability to recall, either partially or completely, some important
aspects of the period of exposure to the stressor.
·
Persistent symptoms of increased psychological sensitivity (not present
before exposure to the stressor) shown by any two of the following:
o
Difficulty in falling or staying asleep
o
Irritability
o
Outbursts of anger
o
Difficulty in concentrating
o
Hyper-vigilance
o
Exaggerated startle response.
At
this point I'm just too overwhelmed to figure out where to start fixing
everything. The various avenues I've gone down in an attempt to fix things have
all failed. Numerous people have suggested another round of therapy might do
the trick (third time's the charm? really?), but I have my doubts and my
truckloads of inhibitions. Additionally, things like yoga, general exercise,
meditation, hot tea, music, a book, writing, video games, a shower/bath, etc.
have also not helped. I'm always open to more suggestions...not that anyone
regularly reads this thing. Yeah, considering that last bit, I should probably just
go lay in bed and try to sleep. I guess I'll end with two of my favorite (since
they're relevant) quotes from the ever-apt House
of Leaves:
“This much
I'm certain of: it doesn't happen immediately. You'll finish [the book] and
that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe a year,
maybe even several years. You'll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love
or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won't
matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you'll suddenly
realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason,
you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow
and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you.
Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a
vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how.
You'll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place
...
You might
try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again.
Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there,
your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace
constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for
hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some
kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you
could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you'll be afraid to look
away, you'll be afraid to sleep.
Then no
matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or
even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every
assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes,
tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether
deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to
resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've
got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has
always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried
in the nameless black of a name.
And then the
nightmares will begin.”
"I
still get nightmares. In fact I get them so often I should be used to them by
now. I'm not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares. For a while there I
tried every pill imaginable. Anything to curb the fear. Excedrin PMs,
Melatonin, L-tryptophan, Valium, Vicodin, quite a few member of the barbatal
family. A pretty extensive list, frequently mixed, often matched, with shots of
bourbon, a few lung rasping bong hits, sometimes even the vaporous
confidence-trip of cocaine. None of it helped. I think it's pretty safe to assume
there's no lab sophisticated enough yet to synthesize the kind of chemicals I
need. A Nobel Prize to the one who invents that puppy. I'm so tired. Sleep's
been stalking me for too long to remember. Inevitable I suppose. Sadly though,
I'm not looking forward to the prospect. I say "sadly" because there
was a time when I actually enjoyed sleeping. In fact I slept all the
time."
-Johnny Truant, House of Leaves
