My Kingdom for One Good Night of Sleep
Is that asking too much?
I think William Shakespeare had it wrong. In Richard the III, King Richard says after losing his horse in battle,
“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”
My riff on this line would be, “One good night of sleep, just one, for my kingdom.”
No getting up in the middle of the night to pee.
No hearing my husband get up in the middle of the night to pee.
No need to drink water because of my dry mouth.
No need to turn my body like a rotisserie chicken so that I can give each body part a chance to bear the weight of a sleeping body.
No suddenly clever idea of the story I must write when I wake up, and will I remember it?
To be clear, it is not that I can’t fall asleep.
It’s that I find myself waking up and then eventually falling back asleep (eventually italicized because it can feel like a very long time…like the awkward silence you might experience when your close friend says, “Tell me honestly…do you like my new outfit on me?” and you don’t want to hurt her feelings and you don’t like it, but what do you say…honestly…as the silence falls).
I didn’t use to cycle between awake and asleep in the middle of the night. I am going to guess it’s one of the unexpected and unappreciated surprises of getting older.
I believe I do the right things before going to sleep.
I make sure to have my socks on.
I don’t go to bed mad.
I don’t read the news.
I admit to staying awake for a good football game. The other night, the Denver Broncos (the team I grew up rooting for) played the Cincinnati Bengals. Joe Burrow, the Bengals quarterback, is my favorite to watch. I couldn’t say no, and I loved every minute of the game.
I actually slept great that night, which was very appreciated and reminded me of the random and too-seldom-experienced pleasure of a good night's sleep.
So, of course, there is guidance about how to get a good night's sleep.
There is the “10 3 2 1 0 rule” for sleep which translates as:
“Cut out caffeine 10 hours before bed. Don’t eat or drink alcohol 3 hours before bed. Stop working 2 hours before bed. Get away from your screens 2 hours before bed.”
Does writing count as working? If so, I’m guilty of that. But what if you aren’t making much money on your writing? Does it still count?
Mayo Clinic has its sleep tips as well.
Stick to a sleep schedule. (I think that means no falling asleep on the sofa while we watch something).
Pay attention to what you eat and drink. Does noshing count?
Create a restful environment. I’m good with that if my dog isn’t barking because he senses someone outside, and it could be a rabbit, a neighbor, or some refuse blown by the wind. No matter to Teddy because he has a job to do, and he takes it very seriously. He is our fearless (but full of fear in real life), loud-barking guardian.
Include physical activities during the day. That’s the easiest one on my list.
Limit and manage your worries. That’s the hardest on my list, and they don’t tell us how to either limit or manage our worries. I’d take either.
Here’s where I’ve landed on the sleep issue. I remain active during the day, am mostly able to focus, and my mood doesn’t appear to be sour. At least my friends still like seeing me, and my husband, who gets my most unfiltered self, hasn’t complained.
My conclusion is that if I have a sleep deficit, it doesn’t matter so much.
Maybe the sleep issue is just another example of me expecting too much. I equate it to, hypothetically speaking, you’ve just written a book, and the New York Times failed to review it. So did the other news outlets.
In both cases — sound sleep and authoring — we have some unmet expectations.
My solution, after this careful analysis, is to change my perspective. Expect less. When I go to sleep, I know I will experience intermittent interruptions. I won’t act surprised.
I have accepted that I simply can’t be like the cat in the photo above.
Page turned, and I get to keep my kingdom.
Dear readers, how is your sleep score?
Note: I would say “sleep experience” rather than “sleep score,” but we live in a data-driven society where cool people seem to track everything, and people on Substack are definitely cool. I’m sure you’ve got a score for your sleep.
My husband does, and he is not even that cool :)
I'm sorry you're sleep experience is not up to your expectations. But what a fun, hilariously entertaining essay (with lots of catchy asides,) penned as the result of your sleep problems. You describe my nights exactly! I bet your thoughts resonated with lots of cool and not so cool substackers. Wait-- we are all cool. I recall sage advice when I was pregnant with our first baby. "You'll never get a full night's sleep again after having kids." So it may not be because we are old. ?? I wish I had brilliant advice to share other than admitting I take a Tylenol if it's after midnight and I can't shut down my brain. I'll be thinking of you at 3 a.m. tonight!