It's 1am and I can't sleep. I want to sleep. I crave sleeping. In fact, this morning at work I could hardly contain my yawns. Sleep is definitely in my top three list if enjoyable activities. As some who know me well will tell, my favorite time of day is that moment when you get into bed. If the bed is well made with heavy blankets (preferably down), fresh sheets, and several pillows that easily conform to your personal and unique neck and head structure, my friend...there is almost nothing better. It's at that moment that muscles relax, thoughts slow down, and breathing steadies. On nights where I can enjoy this moment, I can't help but get a little excited. I get to sleep! Finally! The responsibilities of the day are over and I can simply... rest.
I am really good at getting to sleep. In fact, I consider it one of my talents. Some people dance, some paint, some can set a piano on fire with their "mad skills." Me, well, I can fall asleep faster that you can say "goodnight." As a missionary serving in Spain, this was a very valuable tool. I don't know what it is about being a missionary, but I was ALWAYS tired. Even though I was getting the most consistent sleep I had ever received in my life, I was always exhausted. So, the fact that I could fall asleep almost on command was wonderful. Not a minute was wasted. I was getting my full eight hours dang it! As my former companions can attest, there were many nights when I wouldn't even make it through our prayers before I was on my way to REM sleep. But that was okay only as long as I still wasn't on my knees. There is nothing worse than waking up at 3am because your legs are blue from lack of circulation due to four hours of being in super kneeling position. Then you have to slowly unfold your body as the blood suddenly floods back to your toes, awaking every nerve with sharp force between your the bottoms of your feet and your belly button. Gratefully, normal circulation soon sets in and you can return happily to dreamland. I cannot remember one single night where I heard my mission companion fall asleep before me. Never happened. Not once.
Sadly, outside of missionary life there have been many nights of my mere 25 years of existence in which I have not been able to relish the euphoric moment of falling asleep. But, perhaps it is because I have spent many a night perched upon a textbook as I dream, or pressing the letter "g" for 176 pages with my forehead while unconscious, that I can really appreciate a good "bed time." When all you want to do is get under the covers and close your eyes, and that's the last thing you can do, you really come to value those laid back nights.
That's why I am so frustrated! I graduated didn't I? there are No more tests to study for at 4am, no papers to write all night in time for a 7am deadline. My job doesn't require any loss of Zs. I have no children to keep me up at night. I'm not sick. I'm not depressed. WHY CAN'T I SLEEP??
It's not just tonight mind you. Ever since I have moved to Oregon, leaving the land of the jell-o salad and big hair, I haven't been able to bring myself to go to bed. Although I yawn, my eyes start to droop, and my head begins to throb, I cannot get myself to get under my covers and rest. What is wring with me?!
It's funny. As a child I hated bedtime. "Bedtime" was the foulest word in my vocabulary as a seven year-old. I remember pleading with my parents to let me stay awake. I used every tactic to prolong the moment when I would have to get under the covers. It seemed like everything exiting began to happen after I fell asleep, and I didn't want to miss any of it. I only knew this because at age 5 I snuck out of my bedroom around 9pm and stealthily snuck out to the family room. There it was--the party. My dad was eating a what looked like a gargantuan bowl of ice cream, my mom was dipping a plethora of her favorite chocolate covered graham crackers in a big glass of milk, and some television program was on that looked exciting. Realistically, it was probably the evening news as all I remember is bright colors being flashed across the screen. Pretty soon, I just new, they were going to break out the party hats and confetti. I mean, Santa Clause came in the middle of the night, so it had to be the most fun part of the day!
Luckily for me, and my parents, by the time I was in my teens I realized the delight of sleep. That's when I discovered my talent. I was 15, had been up for an early morning seminary class since 5am, gone to school, club meetings, swim practice, and mutual (a youth group). I came home about 7pm dropped my backpack, swim bag, and sweater on the floor and literally crashed. Laying on the ground I slept for the next four hours on my living room floor, while my five siblings, two parents, dog, and another bazillion neighborhood kids trampled around me. Although I came to rest in the middle of the Harris circus, I sleep like a bear in hibernation.
Maybe that's it. Everyone has a good bedtime quota and I've reached mine. You can only have so many pleasurable wind down experience and one you reach the limit, your outta luck. And so, I'm doomed to 50 to 75 more years of bad night experiences. Stink. Sleeping is something I love, something I look forward to, something that makes me happy and I can't do it!
Well, maybe if I give it another go, it will work out.
May you dear reader, always have the best bedtime experiences and never reach your wind down quota.
Off for another attempt to find dreamland,
Meg
