I have become obsessed with the Sandman. He may not be the god of my forebears, who sleep soundly and snore loudly, but he is my god. And he is an angry god. He has withheld his somnolent blessing from me for years. I must worship him, appease him, appeal to him nightly that I may escape insomnia and be released into sleep.
I am constantly aware of the state of my sleep as I go through my day. I think about how many hours I slept, how often I woke in the night, how groggy I felt upon waking. I think about the time I must rise the next day, and therefore, the time by which I must sleep that night. What I plan for dinner depends on how long before bedtime dinner will be. Later meals must be lighter meals, no exceptions. I keep track of my caffeine intake via Coke; I’ve cut coffee almost entirely out of my life. I slake my thirst early in the day, but drink little in the hours after dark. I never nap.
See, for me, sleep is religion, rife with rules handed down from above. Rigid rules, spoken by the god of sleep, recorded and repeated by doctors. There are a bunch of “thou shalt nots” : No lounging around in bed. No TV-watching in bed. No reading in bed. No nothin’ in bed – except sleep. No late, lovely, romantic dinners. No caffeine after 8pm. No alcohol, at all. And of course, the cardinal rule: Take an Ambien an hour before bed. And pray. All this in an effort to see the face of my god, my Sandman, and achieve a sprinkling of his dust and a full night’s rest.
Following the rules is mandatory, or the Sandman will elude even my sedated self. Those nights, I watch the darkness grey towards dawn in wakeful, headaching misery. However, there is no guarantee that he will show himself to me, even when all the pre-conditions are met. The Sandman is a fickle god and he has never been eager to come my way. My younger self would laugh, and happily pull all-nighters. Older, wiser, more fatigued, I cannot laugh at the anger of the god now. Instead, I wonder, and worry. Did I do all in my power to set up the conditions for sleep? Did I have a bit too much caffeine? Was dessert too much indulgence, too late at night? Have I done something, anything, to chase sleep away?
Will tonight’s entreaty to the Sandman bring me blessing, or a curse?
