It’s 3:03 AM

Why Am I Awake?

It’s 3:03 am and I’m wide awake.

I would like to sleep more, but my mind won’t let me. It is flitting from one subject to another, like a ruby-throated hummingbird zipping from flower to flower, searching for the sweetest nectar. That’s bad enough, but what’s worse is when it locks on to a horrible song and plays a small bit of it over and over and over.

One particularly miserable night, I was tortured with the chorus of Paul Simon’s tremendously awful Mother and Child Reunion. Oh my gosh, if I could have unscrewed the top of my head and hosed it out, I would have. I thought, “So this is what it’s like to go completely insane.” It was an exceptionally diabolical form of torture.

Even a great artist such as Paul Simon produces a clunker now and then.

Sometimes I won’t be able to sleep because my mind is replaying a conversation with someone that did not go well. It loops over and over in my brain just as a bad song does. If I could gain some insight into why the conversation went wrong by replaying it continually in my mind, maybe it could be a good thing. But, has that ever happened? No.

I have tried boring myself to sleep by counting backwards from 100, and I’ve tried telling my brain to “SHUT THE HELL UP!!!”. But, unfortunately, those methods have never worked. Why is my brain doing this to me? I feel as if I’m being tortured for sport.

I think it would be better for my overall mental and physical health if I could sleep more than five hours a night. I bet my general mood would be much improved. I bet a certain someone would start calling me Mr Wonderful again. (Okay, that last part was a lie. I’ve never been called Mr Wonderful.)

I have talked to my doctor about my sleep issues in kind of a general way. She asks how I am doing, and I tell her, “I wish I could sleep better, but I’m doing okay.” I think if I made it more of an issue, she might come up with a special sleep plan to address it. But, the truth is, I would prefer not to do that.

The problem with a special sleep plan is that, as much as I want to have a more restful, high-quality sleep, I would guess I’ll have to change my ways somehow, perhaps with diet and/or exercise or meditation or something, and, being a creature of habit and a lover of routines, I am reluctant to change. (I know how bad that sounds.)

I have tried melatonin and an over the counter sleep aid, but they were not very effective, and a glass of warm milk sounds like an old wives’ tale. I’m not a drinker, but I’ve thought maybe I should try having a couple of stiff drinks before bed to help me sleep. I don’t know, though, that kind of seems like exchanging one problem for another.

I know I do not want to be taking prescription sleeping pills. I’ve seen too many TV shows where the strong, good-looking hero with a heart of gold, gets hooked on prescription meds and loses everything and winds up in jail or dead. I don’t think I would do well in jail. Or dead. So, I believe I’ll stay away from the sleeping pills.

I haven’t tried all of these sleep aids. Yet.

I have an old-fashioned clock radio on my nightstand (surprise, surprise) and sometimes, when I’m awake in bed, I’ll play a little mind game with myself. I’ll guess what time it is. I am almost always wrong, of course, but on those rare occasions I get it on the nose, a wave of accomplishment washes over me. Or maybe it is better described as a wave of victory. “A-ha! I was right! I won!”, I think to myself, silently.

Exciting my mind in this manner is certainly counterproductive to inducing the sleep I so desperately hope for in the middle of a sleepless night. However, I keep doing it. Maybe it is similar to an inveterate gambler who wins just often enough to eventually lose all his money. He keeps chasing that victorious feeling, even though he knows it is to his detriment.

Here’s another silly thing I do with the clock instead of sleeping - I look for, and get excited by, what I call “Prime Times”. What are Prime Times? Well, Prime Times are those times on a digital clock that look the same right side up or upside down. For example, 2:12 looks the same both ways, except for the placement of the colon, but I ignore that. 3:03 is not a Prime Time because it looks like this E0:E upside down. See what I mean?

There’s another reason I have trouble sleeping through the night, and, geez I really hate to say this but . . . it’s our cat, Pearl. Those who have been reading my stuff for a while know how I love me some Pearl. (I love Chester, too, but he’s not as lovey-dovey as Pearl.) And, I believe she loves me back. One of her favorite spots to sleep is between my legs from the knees down. And, it’s fine during the day if I stretch out while I am working on my MacBook or watching TV.

This is Pearl and me, trying to catch a few afternoon Zzzzzs. It seems different at night.

However, as we both have gotten older, it seems different at night. It starts off okay, but, as a restless sleeper, I tend to switch positions a lot. And, since I do not want to disrupt Pearl’s sleep, I often contort myself in uncomfortable ways, which disrupts my own sleep.

I like having her sleep with us, yet I am secretly relieved when she eventually tires of my constant fidgeting and moves on. Then I feel guilty, even though she never seems to hold it against me.

I fall asleep in front of the TV a lot in the evenings. So I think, “Well, maybe I should get ready for bed.” I scoop the litter boxes, take out the trash, wash my face, brush and floss my teeth, put in my eyedrops, plug in my electronics, and hit the sack. Of course, after all of that activity, I am wide awake. It’s so frustrating.

As I write these words in the early afternoon, I’m feeling a little . . . drowsy . . . yawn . . . so maybe I should go lie down. The time is 1:51 - hey it’s a Prime Time! Cool! Oh damn, on second thought that’s not so cool because of the excitement, I’ll never get to sleep now. A potentially refreshing afternoon nap goes down the drain because of a stupid (but exciting) Prime Time. And, so it goes . . .

I have said this before - it ain’t easy being me.

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