Are You Scared To Fall Asleep?
When I say that I’ve tried everything to sleep better, I mean it. No coffee, no blue light, intermittent fasting, working out late, using melatonin, abusing melatonin — and there’s always another new trick in the book that a doctor or somebody on social media dares to suggest.
Some of these things help partially — at the very least, I’m able to function normally for most of the week — but there’s nothing I would call a miracle. I think I’ll always be looking for that, to be honest.
What I know by heart — and what I’m afraid might never change — is how I feel about sleeping. It’s the very idea that frightens me; the idea of getting into bed, lying underneath those suffocating covers, and just waiting, begging, for my brain to shut down and crash.
Most times, I’m either dozing through the night in my desk chair or on my bedroom floor. There’s something about those places that keep me ready to wake up at the drop of a hat while still getting enough rest to function, and I end up craving it. I like the late-night, never-quite-ready-to-shut-my-eyes aesthetic.
Don’t get me wrong, I have a nighttime routine: skincare, chamomile tea, yoga — the works. But there’s nothing about the routine that feels like it’s preparing me to go to bed. I’m merely settling into my night skin, while still eager and ready to work through a task or two on my laptop. I would spring clean at midnight if I knew it wouldn’t bother my roommates.
Because of all this, I’ve learned to embrace the quiet hours of the night. There’s a certain peace in the solitude, a calmness that’s hard to find during the day. I’ve become more productive, using these hours to plan, reflect, and create.
But I know this isn’t sustainable. My body needs rest, real rest, and I’m still on the hunt for that elusive solution.
Sometimes I wonder: is it just the way I’m wired? Is my body trying to tell me something? There’s been recent data surrounding our circadian rhythms — how some people just find it easier to be a morning person, while some of us embrace the night with energy. Maybe my body just wants me to work the night shift.
But: I’m scared. And I don’t know why I’m scared.
The struggles I’ve had to deal with — anxiety, anemia, disordered eating, transitioning into a new career, the stress of saving up for a new car — they’re struggles that I’ve had for a long time, and I’ve had successful techniques to help me relieve those struggles for a long, long time. There’s no reason that I can find for any of it to change now.
I just don’t like to sleep, either. It seems so childish to say, but I’m trying to be honest; and honestly, what I feel like is a petulant child who can’t stop whining about their bedtime.
So where does that leave me?
It leaves me in a constant battle between my mind and my body. My mind is always racing, filled with thoughts and ideas that seem to come alive in the stillness of the night. My body, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know what to do. I think it should be asking me, begging me for more rest, but I never hear it calling for it a break until I’m just about dead on my feet.
I think it’s hard for my body to ask something of me when my mind is constantly on overdrive.
There’s a part of me that’s hopeful, though. Hopeful that one day I’ll find a balance, a way to rest and work peacefully with my mind and body. Maybe it will be a combination of all the little things I’ve tried, or maybe it will be something entirely new that I haven’t discovered yet.
In the meantime, I don’t have much to do except accept that this is my current reality and that it’s okay to struggle with sleep. It doesn’t make me any less capable or strong. It’s just another challenge society is forcing me to navigate.
And perhaps, through sharing my journey, I can connect with somebody who knows how to deal with this; because as elusive as it seems to me now, I feel I’m going to have to fight eventually for consistently good rest.
I’m young, but not that young. Every choice I make now is setting me up for future aches and pains, future health scares, and more stress. This won’t be any easier to fix when I’m fifty.
So, yes, I’m scared to sleep. I’m tired of the idea of being tired. And I don’t have an answer to fix this feeling.
Doesn’t mean I won’t keep looking, though.
Like this post? Check out my other articles on sleep. Thanks for reading!