Monday 3 September 2012

Zzzzzzzzzzzz....

Me and sleep have a very tetchy relationship.  We're fine when I sleep, but when I don't, we tend to end up arguing. 

Take last night as a prime example.  I went to bed, as usual for a school night, at around 11pm.  At 4:30am, my housemate gets up to go to work.  I was still awake to witness this eventuality.  I must have fallen asleep somewhere between 5 and 5:30, only to be woken up at 6:50 by my alarm.  Man did I feel refreshed this morning.

Now as an anxiety sufferer, I've had many problems with sleep in the past.  At one stage, I was only getting almost 4-5 hours per night due to panic attacks, which usually set in just after I'd gone to bed.  I don't know if people with anxiety generally get a less than 'average' sleep, but somehow, as an anxious tribe, given our minds are usually on the over-active side, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a measurable relationship. 

But last night, what was I actually anxious about?  My health anxiety was under control as I wasn't experiencing any sort of major discomfort, there were no imminent events that may trigger the panic disorder and apart from the usual day to day worries, everything was hunky dory.

Of course, it then dawned on me that, actually, the reason I wasn't sleeping was because I was anxious about not sleeping. 

I mentioned in a recent blog about mindfulness that I was experiencing this horrible 'mind-warp' thing, whereby when I noticed I was drifting off to sleep, I woke myself up.  It wasn't so much this last night, because quite frankly, I was barely drifting off to begin with.  That said, I think I was drifting a little not long after I went to bed and then woke myself up, and that kind of set me up for the rest of the night. 

I think eventually I tire myself out, but only after hours of extreme frustration driven, not least, by myself. 

I suppose being so obsessed with sleeping enough, which of course causes you to sleep less, is similar to the thing I have with eating.  Of course with eating, when I'm at home, it's fine, so I know if I don't eat much on one day when I'm out, it's only one day.  Sleep, of course, doesn't work that way, and so one night of sheer hell can set off a pattern. 

Which is all well and good, but unfortunately after a while it starts to affect my work and my general feelings.  Being tired exacerbates anxiety, from experience, and, **guess what anxiety sufferers**

A vicious circle is born.

I'm not one for taking medication, largely because doing so in itself could trigger some sort of 'oh no I've changed my bodily pattern' health anxiety thought, so what tends to happen is that I cope with it, badly, until it re-adjusts itself again. 

I'm hoping that last night is just a one off.  If it isn't, I'll probably update this blog accordingly.  Unless I've fallen asleep whilst typing it, of course.

Best wishes
Al

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