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tylikI used to have a lot of trouble with insomnia. And sleep dep really isn't my friend, though I can cope with it well enough over short periods of time. (And I've learned to avoid social events that will put me in the position of not being able to get enough sleep over a longer period of time and then having everyone wonder why I'm somewhat fruck out.)
It's not so big a deal these days, mostly... A bit here, a bit there, usually not enough all at once that it's really problem for more than a day or so. Unlike, say, my teen years where I think I'd go for months at a time without getting a decent night's sleep. And no, this wasn't cool, this wasn't a lifestyle choice, it was just miserable. (Though I sometimes tried to pretend it was one or the other. And sometimes I wonder how much I was encouraged in this by the people I was with... Though there are other obvious historical reasons for my insomnia.)
One of my idiosyncracies is that I'm a bit phobic about having people sneak up on my when I'm asleep. Maybe not just a bit, I don't really know how to gauge this kind of thing. Or for that matter, the very idea that things will be going on around me when I'm asleep that I'll be unaware of. One the plus side, I guess, this is why I wake up quickly and completely if there's a reason. On the minus side... or if there isn't a reason, or insufficient reason.
I'm usually not this high strung anymore (though occaisionally, and it's made much worse by sleep dep ;-) ) but if I am wound up, and I want to sleep, it would be best if a) it's night (I don't sleep well in light, and artificial dark is sub optimal) b) my sleeping space is secure -- several locked doors between me and the rest of the world is a good thing, so are thick walls and c) it's really nice if there's no one moving on the same floor. In the same building is better, but I tend to habitually track where people are on the same floor as me.
Ah, my pet neurosis. It's not that I actually believe people are trying to sneak up on me and do me bodily harm... well, not when I'm awake anyway.
Which is what I was actually going to write about. I'm been a little wound up this week. Not a lot, probably just a hormonal thing. But Craig was working late last night, and while I can sleep with people that I trust okay (trust is essential, but sometimes having a sleeping person next to me makes it easier to sleep -- it's like I can kind of get to sleep on their coattails or something) it's hard to sleep if I'm expecting someone to come home. Especially if I don't know when.
But around two in the morning, I'd finally gotten into a doze. And then I heard footsteps on the gravel path outside my window and one story down.
Now, I really don't need that much adrenaline in my system.... Gah.
It was probably a cat. Or maybe a dog -- it was kind of heavy for a cat. Quiet for a person, though. (Though I could have been at least that quiet, I think. Especially if I wasn't in a hurry.) Hard to pick out between the traffic noise and fan noise. And then I remembered that I'd left the back door open, with only the screen, so the house could air out.
And then I started thinking about the midnight tunes guy, and how he sometimes turns off the music and just sits in the road outside our house (mind you, he hasn't been by for about a week). And how Craig saw him drive up and sit on the private road right by our driveway. I called Craig at work, just to make sure it wasn't him... It wasn't, he said he was heading home, though.
So then I got to have the surreal experience of creeping downstairs late at night, wearing nothing but a clingy little shift and feeling ridiculously like a soon to be ex- character in a horror movie. Hmm... what do we have that can be used as a weapon? Why oh why don't I keep a real, sharp sword in the house?
Now, usually being insomniac doesn't extend to paranoid fantasies, and only occaisionally to midnight rambling.
Anyhow, of course no one was apparent. And eventually Craig came home. And eventually I got some sleep.
Gods but I hate insomnia.
It's not so big a deal these days, mostly... A bit here, a bit there, usually not enough all at once that it's really problem for more than a day or so. Unlike, say, my teen years where I think I'd go for months at a time without getting a decent night's sleep. And no, this wasn't cool, this wasn't a lifestyle choice, it was just miserable. (Though I sometimes tried to pretend it was one or the other. And sometimes I wonder how much I was encouraged in this by the people I was with... Though there are other obvious historical reasons for my insomnia.)
One of my idiosyncracies is that I'm a bit phobic about having people sneak up on my when I'm asleep. Maybe not just a bit, I don't really know how to gauge this kind of thing. Or for that matter, the very idea that things will be going on around me when I'm asleep that I'll be unaware of. One the plus side, I guess, this is why I wake up quickly and completely if there's a reason. On the minus side... or if there isn't a reason, or insufficient reason.
I'm usually not this high strung anymore (though occaisionally, and it's made much worse by sleep dep ;-) ) but if I am wound up, and I want to sleep, it would be best if a) it's night (I don't sleep well in light, and artificial dark is sub optimal) b) my sleeping space is secure -- several locked doors between me and the rest of the world is a good thing, so are thick walls and c) it's really nice if there's no one moving on the same floor. In the same building is better, but I tend to habitually track where people are on the same floor as me.
Ah, my pet neurosis. It's not that I actually believe people are trying to sneak up on me and do me bodily harm... well, not when I'm awake anyway.
Which is what I was actually going to write about. I'm been a little wound up this week. Not a lot, probably just a hormonal thing. But Craig was working late last night, and while I can sleep with people that I trust okay (trust is essential, but sometimes having a sleeping person next to me makes it easier to sleep -- it's like I can kind of get to sleep on their coattails or something) it's hard to sleep if I'm expecting someone to come home. Especially if I don't know when.
But around two in the morning, I'd finally gotten into a doze. And then I heard footsteps on the gravel path outside my window and one story down.
Now, I really don't need that much adrenaline in my system.... Gah.
It was probably a cat. Or maybe a dog -- it was kind of heavy for a cat. Quiet for a person, though. (Though I could have been at least that quiet, I think. Especially if I wasn't in a hurry.) Hard to pick out between the traffic noise and fan noise. And then I remembered that I'd left the back door open, with only the screen, so the house could air out.
And then I started thinking about the midnight tunes guy, and how he sometimes turns off the music and just sits in the road outside our house (mind you, he hasn't been by for about a week). And how Craig saw him drive up and sit on the private road right by our driveway. I called Craig at work, just to make sure it wasn't him... It wasn't, he said he was heading home, though.
So then I got to have the surreal experience of creeping downstairs late at night, wearing nothing but a clingy little shift and feeling ridiculously like a soon to be ex- character in a horror movie. Hmm... what do we have that can be used as a weapon? Why oh why don't I keep a real, sharp sword in the house?
Now, usually being insomniac doesn't extend to paranoid fantasies, and only occaisionally to midnight rambling.
Anyhow, of course no one was apparent. And eventually Craig came home. And eventually I got some sleep.
Gods but I hate insomnia.
