Musing on Sleep

As reflected in a recent post, sleep is not an easy nor particularly restful thing for me. It is true that the truly deep exhaustion I felt last year around this time is not as present. As I am about to head to Dance New England, I hope that bone tired feeling stays at bay.

I have a tendency to have vivid and numerous dreams which leave me feeling as drained upon waking as I did when I slipped underneath the covers and sidled up to TGF. It is hard for me to remember when I last slept hard enough for days in a row that I do not remember waking up, albeit briefly, at least 3 times a night which is more the norm. Further complicating "restorative sleep" as Lindsay likes to call it in those damn commercials is the fact that a selection of cats like to cuddle up to me. Often I have Atticus followed by Gemma sleeping between my legs and the other hunkered against my butt or calves.

When the recent stress is figured in, it's rather amazing I am functional at all. Keeping all of this in mind, I wondered if I had lost my mind when I booked a red eye flight to the east coast. I spent days telling myself if I can sleep on the plane all will be good. However that was a silly thing since I absolutely cannot sleep well in a moving vehicle, especially if I am not horizontal. Clearly this was another matter of deluding myself "for the greater good" and hoping that I could trick myself into something that is against my nature.

The odds were against me. Only if I can the three seats across so I can curl up (this is where being short comes in handy) do I really sleep anything like soundly on a plane. The seat I had about 24 hours ago was on the aisle of the center 3 seats next to a man who was wearing so much cheap cologne I had a headache which came and went for two hours. Then there were all the chatter in my head: the things I had forgotten to bring; worry over the move; could I find a cheap air mattress since I decided not bring mine; would Adrienne have a sleep bag I could borrow; what the hell was Adrienne's new address anyways; and so on ad infinitum. In an attempt to get some napping in I used the strategy TGF employs regularly - the droning sound of the television. I snagged the headphones and plugged into some movie with Richard Gere about a scam job involving a book about Howard Hughes.

I reflected again how a friend is still peeved about a now ex-lover who wanted to sleep all night long in each other's arms. It surely is an overly romantic vision of love but also a terrible thing to demand of someone when it means they will sleep horribly. Personally I might have strangled the person for suggesting it as a real versus in a "wouldn't it be kinda fun to do that thing they show in the movies but never really happens" way. Not only can I not deeply fall asleep in any position remotely like sitting up, but I cannot if I am in someone's arms, or even facing them! Actually it goes deeper than that - I have turn away completely, I can't even face their back. Eventually, without fail I have to face "out", away from my lover. It is like an intrinsic escape plan sort of response that has been with me for as long as I can remember. Even when sleeping alone I face out. Except for that one apartment where the long side of the bed was against exposed brick and I loved the feel of the brick against my bare feet as I slept positioned much like a right angle bracket for a shelf.

Some people can sleep anywhere and feel rested. Some can "cat" nap easily, almost like hypnotizing themselves and sleep for some predetermined time. Many days I envy those people. But I never envy those who think sleeping in their lover's arms all night is love personified.