NIGHT OWL THOUGHTS
I’ve gotten acclimated and fond of staying up a little later that I probably should because I like the unstructured time night provides.
I’m not sleeping well. Lately, as a bedtime routine, I’ve been getting on my iPad to watch a bunch of silly stuff until I feel the heaviness in my eyelids take over. Then I quickly close the device and tuck myself in and hope for the best. My other method is to listen to a podcast until I doze off. That can get a bit more interesting. AirPods pressed into an ear cavity while your head rests against a pillow is still something I’m getting used to and I try to put the volume as low as possible in hopes of preventing deafness. I often fall asleep before the episode has ended and then Spotify just starts playing random podcasts throughout the night, waking me up periodically when I’m startled by the odd voice or laughter. Certainly there’s a way to set an off- timer but I’m too lazy (too tired?) to even attempt that. Last night was one of the odd occasions where I felt like listening to music to go to sleep. I was listening to Sarah McLachlan’s Freedom Sessions, which Spotify followed up with a radio selection of beautiful, folk, singer-songwriters. ‘Damn, I haven’t hear Foolish Games in a minute. Whose voice is that? Natalie Merchant?” Around 3am I had to look at my phone to start a new playlist.
The falling asleep with devices is a tricky recipe that requires constant check-ins with myself. And before you say anything, yes I am completely aware that falling asleep to any devices is a horrible idea and a health hazard. The thing is, I don’t know why, but the sound of someone talking shuts down that part of my monkey brain that is constantly buzzing with thoughts, anxieties, and questions. When that part of my brain takes a break, I can usually calm down enough to finally sleep. The issue is sometimes that doesn’t work and I get too interested in what the podcast is actually about. In which case, the best thing for me to do is switch to the Calm App and listen to a guided sleep meditation or Beach sounds. Sometimes the binaural sounds of brown noise does the trick. The challenge is finding out which method will provide the best outcome.
I know how important good rest is and somehow I’ve developed this false memory that once upon a time I was a good and deep sleeper. Lately, I’m wondering if that’s actual true. When I was eight years-old I started praying and talking to God as a part of a bedtime ritual mandated by my religious parents. During this period, I remember praying at night and then having vivid dreams of bloody medieval battles that I was convinced were some kind of Holy war I was reliving from a past life. One night I decided to stop praying before bed and the nightmares miraculously stopped.
In my twenties and thirties I went through periods where I ruminated all night in bed, thinking about the stupid thing I said to someone at a party, the witty comeback I should have said when someone shaded or bullied me or wondering why I didn’t get a call back from that audition. The thoughts would come over me and flood my entire body with vibrations. The next day I would go about my day feeling either miserable or totally wired on adrenaline and caffeine, ultimately crashing in the night. Sometimes I would tell my mother how anxious I was because of the little sleep I was getting. “Just lie down and try not to worry,” she’d say. “At least your body is resting.”
Things could be worse. I usually pull in at least 6 hours of good rest, though mostly it’s a light sleep with spotted moments of dreaming. I’m a good afternoon napper and can function pretty well in spite of feeling tired a lot of the time.
Lately I’ve been thinking that my sleep patterns might to do have with the life I used to have as a dancer. A dancer is essentially a night-worker. For a number of years I woke up around 10am (or sometimes 11am) every day and got ready to go to work to be at the theatre for 7pm. After a show it would usually take me a few hours to relax, so I would often go to bed around midnight or 1am. When I DJed I was lucky to go to bed before 5am. For the next day and a half I felt I was basically jet-lagged.
That’s the thing about shitty sleep and erratic sleep patterns. It can really fuck with your emotions and your thoughts patterns. You can become overly sensitive or paranoid. You can lose a sense of reality.
On the other hand, I recently read on IG that before the industrial revolution and the invention of the lightbulb, it was not uncommon for people to naturally go to sleep when the sun went down, and then wake up for a few hours in the middle of the night when the body felt like it. In the middle of the night, people would go out or do leisurely things at home or in bed like reading or sewing, and then fall asleep for a second time before the sun came and they would wake up again and start a full day. It was the industrial revolution and the strain of productivity that created a regimented schedule for sleeping.
In relation to this notion of productivity, I would argue that I’ve gotten acclimated and fond of staying up a little later that I probably should because I like the unstructured time night provides. In today’s society we have created lives that are so high-paced, the only time to actually slow down and do nothing is at night.
I love sleep, I often crave it, and there’s nothing like waking up from a good rest. But there’s something so pleasurable and satisfying of taking off the social mask, and not having to be anything to anyone. I still think about what my mom said while binge watching the new Netflix series Department Q, at least my body is resting. There’s something soothing about a nigh time ritual. But maybe I should balance out the self-care now and again with some reading instead of rewatching a past episode of the Giggly Squad.