To sleep or not to sleep?

Even before my life went all topsy-turvy, sleeping through the night was not one of my gifts. I come by insomnia naturally. My grandpa used to joke that my grandma got up in the middle of the night because it was the only way she could get any time to herself. My mom and various aunts, uncles, and cousins all join me in regular observance of the family tradition.

At some point during most nights, I’m wide-awake for hours. There are times that I stay in bed, discounting all professional sleep advice, and let my mind wander. Other times, I get up and get stuff done. In the silence, I write, I plan trips, I read. One of my favorite things to do – when everyone I know is fast asleep – is to clean. I get that this is seriously weird. But it is so satisfying. I go to bed and everything is a mess then *poof* the sun rises on a new day and a sparkly house. It’s like a fairy tale, except I am both the elves and the shoemaker. I always did love that story.

The aftermath of the crime ramped up this natural tendency into all out insomnia chaos. I startled awake many times an hour, alert and on edge. I developed a chronic fear of waking to find a man standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Every sound – no matter how small or familiar – resulted in eyes wide-open and a thumping heart. As my trauma symptoms morphed into full-blown PTSD, my sleep disruptions escalated.

Here’s what I need you to understand. Sometimes, trauma symptoms make sense. As you recover, your brain does its best to prevent future trauma. Its natural defense mechanisms include hyper-awareness of your surroundings, being on high alert for new danger, and reviewing the traumatic experiences ad nauseam to look for ways to prevent epically bad shit from happening again. This response by your brain is completely normal. If your symptoms don’t resolve on their own within a couple of months, or if they become more intense or frequent, you may have PTSD.

It isn’t surprising that some of my worst symptoms activate when I should be sleeping. My husband molested my child while I was asleep upstairs. I seriously doubt that my brain will ever again trust that it’s safe for me to sleep.

But I’m not giving up just yet. Two of my most disturbing sleep issues, intrusive memories and an overactive startle response, have been better in recent months. At least they were until my trip to Italy when my middle-of-the-night startle response sprang into action once more. Fortunately, it wasn’t unbearable and it was easy enough to figure out why it was happening – new bed, different room, unusual noises. And, considering I don’t feel safe in my own house at night, knowing that complete strangers like maids and hotel managers had keys to our room definitely didn’t make for a good night’s sleep. I was sure that once I got home, my insomnia would return to pre-trip levels.

Was I ever wrong. It got worse. Of course, I’ve given this some thought and concocted some theories. My last post, In the moment, was about how travel is my ultimate mindfulness practice. When the fun was done, responsible me didn’t want to kick back into high gear. After your mind has taken a vacation, going back to work, paying bills, and making sure your kid does all his homework is not necessarily an easy transition to make. Maybe that disrupted my sleep. Or maybe it was those first dates on the calendar that foreshadow the crime and begin the annual anniversary countdown. More likely, it was a combination effort, plus the serious jet lag that comes with a long day of flying and a 9-hour time difference. Whatever the cause, my post-Italy sleep has not been great.

When we first got home, not only was I waking up hours early, but intrusive memories and a highly engaged startle response kicked back into play. Even now, three weeks later, I’m still jumpy during the day and quick to wake for any and every sound. You know that fear I mentioned earlier, the one about the man in the doorway? Well, goody, goody, gumdrops for me – it’s back. That’s why I’m startling awake repeatedly every dang night. And as an added bonus, I sometimes scream myself awake. Let me tell you, it’s freaking impossible to go back to sleep after you wake up screaming.

The good news is that, by now, I have enough experience with this disorder to know that my symptoms will wane and a more restful sleep will return. This knowledge is critical because the anniversary of the crime is ticking closer. If I can accept that my current state of unrest will subside, then I’ll be able to reassure myself when any other symptoms resume.

PTSD is never going to disappear from my life, but I am learning how to rein it in, prevent what I can, and deal with the rest as it comes.

Now, if only I had time for a nap…

Ah, Venice – you intrigued me. We spent two-and-a-half days crossing bridges and wandering down alleyways. I love taking pictures of doors and windows and this city’s were a special treat. One of my current middle-of-the-night distractions is to imagine I’m back there, getting lost as I explore.

If you have sleep issues, please do not follow my lead. There are proven methods for getting your sleep schedule back on track and none of them involve lying awake in bed, cleaning your house, or allowing your creativity to click on in the wee hours of the night. Click here for more information about making good choices to combat insomnia.

If you are looking for a resource to help resolve and reduce your own trauma symptoms, check out the book I co-authored with Dr. Lisa Campbell. Here’s a link so you can order a copy on Amazon.