This morning I woke up in a blink as if I had just rolled into bed and turned off the light only ten minutes prior. How does this happen? Seriously, where did my REM sleep go? I was robbed, I am certain.
I stared at the clock in shock. Surely this is a practical joke. How could eight hours of restful sleep vanish as if it did not occur? That is exactly how I felt. It felt as if I had just crawled into bed and then was being forced back out of it again into bright light. The night had been stolen.
A few nights a week I lay there pleading my brain to be quiet so I can sleep. This is just typical for me. Counting sheep, playing relaxing music or sound effects, and finally resorting to medicinal help are all attempts I have made to grab those precious Zzzzs. I try. I give up.
Last night I went to sleep without much fuss only to be abruptly ripped from it like I had been caught in some vortex, black hole, or perhaps abducted by aliens who stole my REM sleep for devious means. I looked in the mirror to find dark circles and blurry eyes like a zombie awoken from the grave. I even felt like a zombie. I looked like one.
Why is it so easy for everyone else I know to just fall asleep? It is simply not fair. I know people who could sleep in back of a truck going sixty miles an hour on a dirt road. I have seen it with my own eyes. My husband can fall asleep mid-sentence. I have seen kids in school sleep sitting straight up in their desks. Is there some secret I have not yet learned?
I have tried exercising before bed, in the morning, afternoon, and even never. It does not affect my sleep. There is probably nothing I have not tried. No caffeine, warm milk, tea and honey, visualization exercises, reading something very boring, earplugs, earphones—I have tried it all and more.
Sleep eludes me. Deep sleep escapes me. I hear every tiny noise although I do not know how I could possibly hear anything over the noise of my husband’s snoring and C-Pap machine. He sleeps so deeply. Air must be forced down his lungs … but yes, he sleeps. I am jealous.
When I am torn from sleep like this morning I can’t help but wonder … did a UFO really abduct me and steal my REM sleep? Where does it go? What miraculous power could they have with my precious REM sleep? Perhaps I am so sleep-deprived that this makes sense.
I am certain it must be aliens. Why stop there? They are also responsible for taking that last cookie, putting that milk container back empty, and buying the last dress in my size. It is feasible ... right? Somewhere out there a UFO is being brilliant and accomplishing fabulous things using my REM sleep while I meander through my day looking like a zombie. It just isn’t fair.
