Every time I have a night like that, I remember: there are people who brag about losing sleep, or think you’re lazy if you can’t get by on five hours every morning. There are times when you have to wake up early, just as there are times when you can’t get enough food or water, but it should be avoided as much as possible. It doesn’t just make you tired, it impairs you. According to the CDC,
- An estimated 1 in 25 adult drivers (aged 18 years or older) report having fallen asleep while driving in the previous 30 days.
- The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration estimates that drowsy driving was responsible for 72,000 crashes, 44,000 injuries, and 800 deaths in 2013. However, these numbers are underestimated and up to 6,000 fatal crashes each year may be caused by drowsy drivers.
Sweet dreams. However, I’ve always wondered if the severe stages affect others as much as me. My senses were hyperactive in childhood, and when I stay up all night, the slightest touch feels deeply nauseating, like nails over chalkboard. I would rather suffer twenty-four hours of influenza symptoms. It sounds melodramatic, but that’s the best description I can give. As such, I’ve prepared an account of those feelings: I’m curious how familiar they sound.
But the hope fades around the time the sun rises. Hours become an undifferentiated mass, as if buried under cannabis, but my muscles protest at the slightest touch, and the world acquires a harsh, grainy filter, leaving nearly everything painful to view. When I shower, the water clings sickeningly to my face, and my shirt disgusts me as I slide it on. If possible, I hide in my room all day with the door locked, skipping meals to remain alone. You hate yourself for reaching this state again, but your only priority is forgetting you’re there. I’ll often watch Netflix or other websites to distract myself, although I have to remove my glasses, because otherwise the most attractive sets and people look highly disgusting. I’ve watched entire television seasons in a single day, which is a dubious honor. Video games can also be an effective distraction, but it’s difficult to gather enough energy, and I usually don’t perform well. Books are almost impossible to focus on. Masturbation is an option, but it produces sweat, which reminds me how shitty I feel.
If forced to travel in public, I slide my glasses in my pocket, try to avoid looking at anyone, and attempt to hide my disgust over wind, cold temperature, insects, moisture, and anything else that happens to brush my face. I don’t think I’m successful, because people often ask if something’s wrong; my grandfather once thought I was on drugs, and not legal ones (I wasn’t). I’ll complete work or chores if they’re right in front of me, but it’s physically difficult to get anything myself, or sometimes even to remember it. As the day progresses, I start involuntarily sleeping for brief moments, leaving time disjointed and spotty. It’s unsettling to become so weak, so confused by simple activities.
The other primary cause has been frustration over the sleep itself. It’s much, much harder to sleep well if I’m scared I won’t be able to. When I started trying to correct my sleep cycle in high school, it had been almost three years since I’d reliably gotten eight hours. The first time I tried to sleep at nine or ten, my mind wouldn’t shut off until well after midnight. I faced the same problem again the next day. My body wasn’t used to sleeping that early, and I was going to bed excited about getting more rest. Both made it difficult for my brain to shut off, and some adolescent chemistry might have contributed as well. The transition into sleep involves letting go, and my desperation pushed it away. Our bathroom also had a mold problem, requiring several walls to be cut open, and the repair company left two loud devices running there. They were necessary, but they woke me up two or three times each night.
I also had unmedicated, undiagnosed ADHD, and it was worse back then. Even when I did manage to sleep for eight or nine hours, I never stopped being tired, no matter how much exercise, caffeine, or loud music I added to the picture. My mother still smoked back then, and she rarely slept for more than four or five hours. She’d always encouraged me to go to bed earlier in the past, but this time she just wanted me to shut up about being so tired. I suspect she was still bitter about me setting my own bedtime, and I started plenty of stupid arguments myself, as you’d expect. But the end result was that no one listened, and I essentially had to relearn how to sleep in a normal fashion. It took months to accomplish.
On the positive side, I finally beat Zelda II Wednesday morning. It’s probably the hardest Zelda game, but it’s also the only flat-out RPG, with the possible exception of Breath of the Wild. And like most RPGs, you can get stronger than intended if you’re willing to spend hours grinding. I started a new game Tuesday evening, found a room in the first palace with three respawning Bubbles, and killed them for experience until my attack stat reached seven. The rest largely followed. The last two palaces murdered me even with all stats at eight, but I pushed through, and Dark Link has an A.I. oversight that makes him much easier than he appears. This could have been accomplished without missing a single of sleep, and probably more efficiently, but at least something good came of it.