To sleep…perchance, to dream.

One of the very first mental illness symtpoms to pop up and rear it’s ugly head was sleep disturbance.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve woken up on a regular basis gasping for breath, screaming, or with all of my muscles tensed up to the point where I physically strain to move them and massage them until they relax.  I try to have  “good sleep hygiene” and do all the things that you are supposed to do.  The one thing that I cannot change is leaving the television on when I sleep.  I need the noise to cover up any creaking and settling our house does in the middle of the night, because the slightest sound will wake me up.  I’ve attempted it a few times in the last few months and it is really touch and go on whether or not I will sleep in complete silence.  So, for now, I leave it on.

I’ve worked with so many psychiatrists trying to get my sleep regulated.  I’ve tried every drug out there for sleep.

Ambien made me do crazy things in the middle of the night, like register for an entire semester of college, and when I would wake up, I had no idea I had done anything until I would find some clue somewhere in the house.  I drove while I was asleep.  Cooked while I was asleep.  It was a disaster.

Seroquel worked for the sleep, but it left me a zombie most of the next day and I managed to put on forty pounds in the short three weeks that I was on it.

Rozerem did nothing for me.  I laid in bed for hours waiting for the urge to sleep, and it never came.

The little green butterfly of Lunesta never showed up in my bedroom.  It was useless for me.

Currently I take melatonin and valerian root.  It relaxes me, but it definitely doesn’t make me sleep or keep me asleep.

So, after years of asking for one, I finally got a referral to a sleep clinic.  Honestly, the sleep issues are most likely psychological.  I know this.  My doctors know this.  But it’s another step in the process of getting everything goign on with my body figured out.

I have a sleep study tonight. I go in at 8:30.  They’ll hook me up to a bunch of machines and monitor me throughout the night while I try to sleep.

Last night, W said she was going to be sad tomorrow sleeping alone in bed and I jokingly said that she could take my place in a bedroom full of cameras with strange men watching her sleep. And as soon as I said it, I started having a panic attack and sobbing. I hadn’t realized how scared I am about this. I can’t seem to get myself to calm down. The idea of sleeping in a strange room, with strangers all around, watching me, able to come and go in my room as they please.  I’m feeling so incredibly vulnerable and unsafe about the whole situation.

I don’t know how to make myself feel safe and at ease. I know that the sleep study is an important part of my healing process physically (and somewhat emotionally, because being tired all the time makes it very hard to keep it together), but I’m so, so scared.

Today I’m spending time finding ways to make the night easier.  I’m going to buy a new pair of pajamas that make me feel covered and protected.   I’m going to pick up the next book in the series I’m reading so that I have  good distraction material.  I’ve been reminding ymyself over and over that I’m safe and that this is a safe environment.  One hour, one minute, one second at a time.