“To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…” (William Shakespeare: Hamlet) This is said by Hamlet to himself when he thinks he is alone.
Forgetting the words ‘die’ and ‘death’, I use this quote
today, on the first day of a new month, to describe the troubled sleep many of
us are experiencing at the moment. For me, the problem falls into two
categories, the first of which is insomnia. Lying awake, trying to sleep yet
unable to set aside not just the worries of today or yesterday, but odd and
random perplexities from the past. Why did I do that? Why did I say such awful
things? Why didn’t I choose another path? From the number of articles I’ve been
reading in the newspapers recently, this appears to be a common problem – and a
very instinctively human one. Dr Jenna Macciochi, immunologist, says: '...
sleep is the foundation of the immune system, and worrying about insomnia only
exacerbates it'.
According to a study commissioned for the Daily Telegraph, “the
nation has been gripped by sleeplessness... Fear is the bane of a good night's
sleep.” The main factors cited in a survey are: work worries; financial stress;
anxiety; depression and loneliness. “Sleep is a biological process that cannot
be controlled. The more you seek to do so, the further it slips from reach.”
One idea I have gleaned from this interesting article is this: “When our brains
race over old feuds, regrets, work crises and family fears at night, that is an
evolutionary response described as 'our brain default mode network' which is
like a filing system. For this simple reason, when the storm clouds of negative
thoughts pass over at night, we need to say: 'Thank you, brain' and see the
thoughts simply as words and images passing through our minds, rather than getting
bogged down in emotion. A good night's sleep boils down to the 'paradox of
acceptance'. When you can let go of the idea that you need to be asleep, you
remove the obstacles preventing you from getting there.”
When my brother and I were children, my late mother used to tell us not to worry if we couldn’t sleep, because at least the body was resting. Part of this is true: however much we toss and turn, we are resting from being upright, and I have always found the idea both comforting and relaxing.
The second problem, which has been affecting members of my
own family, is heavy, vivid dreaming and nightmares. Again, this is probably
easily explained by science and the pandemic. My dreams have been
extraordinarily vivid. The other night I dreamt I was shopping in D H Evans (which used
to be a department store in London) with my mother – years ago, because she was
young. We were looking at material: beautiful, brightly coloured fabrics spread
out over huge counters. This dream felt so real that I woke up with a start,
surprised to find everything fading away – as dreams do. In others I have been
troubled, lost and pursued, unable to find my way home. I don’t have an answer
for this, and I don’t know whether it’s preferable to insomnia!
Here we are on the first day of February, and I have to say that in my particular neck of the woods it’s a sombre, grey day, dripping with damp – like so many others we seem to be experiencing at the moment. To cheer us all up, I’m adding a few colourful photos. The cherry blossom photo was taken at the end of February last year, so we have that joy to come and I promise to post the best of it here.
And why, you may ask, does this article begin with a picture of the sea? Well first of all, it is a cheerful photo of a lovely beach, but more importantly it is connected to what I was saying earlier. The other night I attempted to chase away all the noise in my pre-sleep mind with this picture, and I imagined walking along that beach, barefoot, and paddling in the cold water. I tried to hear the wonderful noise of the tide, as I marched along an endless stretch of sand. And I think it may have worked, because I don't remember any more! The photo below is me doing exactly what I've been describing, back in 2014.
I hope my article will be of help to any of you who are suffering from lack of sleep, or bad sleep. I am indebted to the Daily Telegraph for the passages quoted above, and for helping me in my search for answers on this most important of topics. Should anyone be interested, the link is here, but may not be readable without a subscription to that newspaper: 'Say Goodnight to Insomnia During Lockdown'
Take care, all of you, and - dare I say it - sweet dreams.
I'm in the same boat Prue.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a student, four o' clock in the morning held no fear. It was just a time that held no dread. I was awake - with girlfriend - discussing books we'd read, feelings we had, views on the future. It was fun.
Now, I look at the clock and see four something. I can't sleep, so go back to my book. "Why am I reading at four in the morning?" I ask myself and lose concentration on what I'm reading. I try to concentrate - on sleep or my book, it doesn't matter which.
Then, around nine, I awake, still in the same place, still in bed. I cannot believe my shoe laces have broken. I still know I love my girlfriend, even though I haven't seen her since nineteen eighty. Dreams. I realise my dreams have become more real because I hadn't really been asleep. I try to turn over and get another hour or so of sleep. Hoping that unrealistic dreams of my past life will be replaced. I dream, fitfully, of Twiggy in an E-type Jaguar (I kid you not!) and awake again to find I can only hear the virtual silence outside. No one moving. No one calling. It's like a life put on hold. My life, everyone's life. I lie semi-awake and decide to make a resolution. I'll write something I think. Something that I can absorb myself into. So, I try and write, but, reading it back I realise it's all pointless rubbish, something no one will ever want to read, so I delete it.
Lockdown. It means what it says and I can see no way out of it unless a teenage Twiggy appears in a E-type Jag to redeem us all.
So many times I've wanted to give my blog the title 'Marking Time', Hugo - because that's exactly how it feels, and how you've so vividly described it. This will end... in the meantime, I'm writing away having been inspired by our recent conversation. Don't delete your writing. Learn from it and write more!
DeleteTwiggy in an e-type! Hugo you are so fun still!
DeleteIt took me 6 months of work to get my sleep patterns adjusted but it was worth the effort. I'll tell you the secrets, Prue, on a private chat.
ReplyDeleteThe flowers are lovely as is the beech scene, by the way.
Thanks so much Ellie, and I look forward to our chat 😊
DeleteWhat an interesting post Prue. I'm one of the lucky ones I sleep all night - much to my wife's annoyance!
ReplyDeleteI believe I have only had one nightmare and that was when I first started school and we were learning our numbers. This must have had an effect on me as I started screaming that number 2's were chasing me. My mum said I was standing up and insisting that a 2 was in the corner of bedroom.
Love your flowers, especially the cherry blossom.
All good wishes ~ Mike.
Thank you so much Mike. The nightmare story I can well believe, especially as I used to be an accountant! Take care and best wishes to you and yours 😊
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