September 1, 2024
Sleep is a fickle mistress. At least for me it is. More specifically, my attitude toward sleep has been fickle. Battling between avoiding it and getting enough of it to trudge through the day. Sleeping to me for many years, especially in my formative ones, felt like the enemy. An enemy I would combat with sheer force of will, stubbornness, and of course, copious amounts of caffeine. Usually in the form of soda and coffee.
My mother would tell me that I didn’t sleep until absolutely necessary. Fighting her with every ounce of energy I had to NOT go to sleep. This war would continue, except in other ways. I would soon learn to self-regulate my sleep, but of course would sacrifice it for the sake of getting stuff done. At one point in my life, I was working so much, living on so few hours of sleep, that I was drinking up to two pots of coffee just to make it across the finish line of my many 10–17-hour workdays. Seven days a week, by the way. All doing this with a wife and infant at home. Holy crap, how did my heart not explode, or my mind disconnect from my brain stem and float around in my skull like a jarred organ? The answer, in essence that all happened. Just not as grotesque. It occurred in the form of sickness. My body eventually just stopped working. Similar to an abused car with zero maintenance. The engine sputtered and smoked, tires fell off, the gas ran out, and all the other vehicle related metaphors that could possibly be used. I’m automobile illiterate so I’ll stop here.
What am I getting at exactly? Great question. I have come to realize in the most absurd way, you may even call it an epiphany that sleep cannot be skipped, battled against, and beaten. Like a roller coaster, you get on the ride, and let it take you where it was designed to take you. There is no deviation here. Simply do it. Some people possibly are reading this and thinking to themselves, “This guy just realized sleep is important? What a dummy.” And they would be right. Hey, we're all stupid in our own way. I just happen to be the special kind of stupid that fights against the current of something so instinctual as sleep.
I remember at the beginning of my writing journey back in 2019-2020, when I would wake up at 4am to knock out writing some words for the day. Then staying up very late until the task felt so excruciating that it felt like I was engaged in combat with a small bear. Constantly wrestling me to my bedroom, trying to put me to sleep. There comes a time every day, it seems, that you’ve just had enough and need to stop the task at hand and let the sandman fill your eyes with the grainy stuff and just snooze. Your brain and body will thank you.
These kinds of bouts would continue for a couple more years. Then as time went on and life would change, a new more demanding job came about, kids getting older, sports, house chores, dog stuff, and even the wife wanting to hang out with me still, I know, weird right? All of those life things churned together with the same sleep routine started me on a downward spiral to eventual straight up exhaustion, and dare I say anxiety, and depression. I felt ramshackled, the world felt heavy on my shoulders. It was not a fun time. Every day felt like a chore, and at every turn there was guilt staring me in the face, in the form of these unfinished stories I had been working on for over half my life.
Now we get to 2022. This was the year that I felt my worst. I was not productive at all! Everything had a glum shade of gray to it. Nothing was bright nor bushy tailed. This was also, if you recall, the year everything began opening up again after COVID. At this time, I was blaming my dour mood on the glum Washington weather, and the fact that we had not really done much during the shutdown other than work and being at home. I reasoned that I was in desperate need of a vacation and some serious vitamin D action. Then, thankfully, a trip was planned to travel cross country for a family member's wedding. We would take twelve days and enjoy exploring the seven or so states on our journey. It was definitely the mental reboot I needed. But something else was pointed out to me on this trip.
During our many days on the road, and in an effort to save money, my family of four caravanned and bunked with my wife’s parents. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What was different was when we woke up one of those days, my father-in-law mentioned to me that it sounded like I was choking on my tongue when I slept. I apologized, saying I must have slept hard after the long drive, and didn’t realize how badly I snored. My wife scoffed at me, telling me that she has told me multiple times that I snore and sometimes it sounds as if I stop breathing when I sleep. Of course, being the wonderful husband I am, I completely forgot about these encounters. Severe selective hearing, I’m afraid. I’m pretty sure it’s a guy thing. Sorry honey.
Anyway, after we got back to Washington I sought a sleep specialist. In doing so, it took me a while to actually make the appointment. I was definitely dealing with some denial, while still utterly exhausted. Admitting to myself that I may have Sleep Apnea was something I did not want to come to terms with. I was fine turning the corner into my mid-thirties, but to admit I was not as resilient as I thought I was, turned out to be more of a challenge. Eventually, however, I made the appointment and was able to see the doctor nearly 10 months later… I told you I was dealing with denial. Now that IS a fickle bitch.
Once I performed the test for the two incredibly irritating nights, I waited impatiently for a call back. At this point, I was so miserable, I just wanted to sleep well enough to function. By May of 2023 I was falling asleep at my desk at work, in the car, and even taking several hour naps when I got home just to cope. Not to mention, my mood was a thing of wretched ugliness. Temper problems, I couldn't think clearly. Downright argumentative. I would compare it to the wicked witch of the west, or an orc from the Lord of the Rings. Just ghastly.
Finally, being called back into the doctor’s office, with my results, I waited in the warm quiet room, where I, of course, fell asleep. This was becoming commonplace for me. When I sat I slept. When I laid down, I slept. When I wasn’t moving or engaging in something, I slept. All throughout the day. The doctor entered, waking me up with a firm knock. She sat down and read me my results. You have SEVERE Sleep Apnea. I emphasize ‘severe’ because she did. She said, “I’m surprised you weren’t asleep when I walked in here.” I told her I actually was snoozing. It was at this point she put a rush on my machine.
Have you ever dealt with something long enough that you didn’t realize how bad it was until it was gone? Back pain? A crappy job? Or maybe, let's say not getting enough sleep for around three years? Holy crap! What a freaking magic lamp, genie wish granting, pulling the wool off of one’s eyes moment for me when I finally gave into the fact that I wasn’t a teenager anymore. That first night I slept with the machine on. Be it, irritating as an itchy butthole while riding a bicycle, nonetheless, but WOW! Once I got used to it, I felt amazing! A serious 10/10. Whereas before, I was living in the realm of a 4/10 max. And this was only wearing the blasted thing for three hours at a time. Yes, still my own stubborn two-year-old mind was in there fighting the very thing granting me back my energy. I literally would rip the mask off my face in the middle of the night without even realizing it. It takes time to change, people!
Now fast forward to today, standing in the late middle of 2024. I NOW have figured out the proper formula. Yes, I’m SUPER late to the party. Call me a slow learner. I don’t care. Anyway, less is more when it comes to work. Work on something until you grow tired. Then stop. But call it, don’t force yourself to push through the pain, especially with things you love doing. Like writing for me. The task becomes more chore than fun. Next, get quality sleep at the right quantity. In my younger years I belonged to the understanding that if I just pushed as hard as I could until I couldn’t anymore, I would accomplish more. That is absolutely the wrong approach. Take care of your health. Listen to your body. As long as you work every day to accomplish your goals, you will get there.
Embody that turtle from the story. Slow and steady wins the race. I was definitely acting like the rabbit in the fable. Running as hard and fast as I could, then falling asleep on the side of the road. Literally! I got so tired once, that I pulled over to nap just so I could make it home. I heard a quote from a coworker of mine, and it has stuck with me. He told me, “People tend to overestimate what they can accomplish in a day, and underestimate what they can accomplish in a year.” With not getting too zealous. Growing some patience, and placing one foot in front of the other, focusing on one thing at a time, and getting adequate rest you can live your best life and be at your best to accomplish your goals.
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