insomnia

I used to enjoy sleep. It used to be easy, a no-brainer. Night would come, I'd be tired, I'd lay down and before I knew it, it was morning again. I guess I took it for granted, thinking it would always be there, dreams and all. I used to be able to fall asleep in any conditions, on any surface, with any background noise, save for maybe a screaming child or heavy construction.

Now, not so much. For the past several months... oh maybe a year... sleep has not been so easy. I am now a light sleeper, I wake up early regardless of what time I finally drift off, and I just don't enjoy it like I used to. In fact, I have become such a bad sleeper, that sometimes I dread it. It makes me a tinge nervous knowing I get my hopes up to enjoy the much-needed upcoming rest but that I will inevitably be disappointed.

The other night, I woke up at about 4 in the morning to a soft rustling, almost clicking, sound. I could have sworn it was the sound of someone typing, clack-clack-clacking away on a laptop. I look around, and as expected, there was no such person typing away on my computer. I wandered to the cracked window, thinking I would see my neighbor - whose window is uncomfortably close - pounding away on a keyboard perched close to their open window. As I leaned toward the window, I realized the sound was the rustling of my houseplant's leaves, blowing gently in the fan. Leaves. That's what woke me up.

So a couple nights ago, I went to sleep exhausted and woke up not two hours later to the sound of my BF snoring. (In his defense, snoring might be a strong word. He could have been just breathing, simply sustaining life, and it woke me up.) Five and a half hours later, I was still awake, crazed from exhaustion and frustration. I had read 150 pages of my book, listened to Gregory Isaacs in my headphones three times over, and even tried laying still and envisioning every muscle relaxing as they do in yoga class. At about 7:30 a.m., I finally fell asleep, but then woke automatically a couple hours later.

The next night, I went to sleep again, nervous but hopeful. A couple hours later, I woke up alone, only to discover said BF was sleeping on the floor in the next room. I saw him there and for one second, felt guilt and relief. Of course I felt extremely bad that he was sleeping on the floor, sacrificing his comfort to ensure there were very few distractions to wake me from my shallow slumber. But for a second I debated not waking him up, thinking how nice it would be to sleep in a near-silent warm room. My guilt won, and I nudged him, but he insisted he was comfortable and that I just go back to bed. I did. I slept fine, not great, still waking up every couple hours just for the hell of it.

I am not sure what it will take to regain the power over sleep. I've tried writing lists of the things that keep me up, playing music, exercising heavily that day so that I am dead tired. Nothing works. I am hoping it's a phase....