Sleepless on the hill
A poem; insomnia plagues my resting...
“O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?”
William Shakespeare - Henry IV part 2
The circadian rhythm is our biological process, active in all plant and mammal life it is the internal regulation of sleep and activity, triggered mostly by light and dark. Sunrise and sunset for example. It tells us when we are tired and when to sleep, when we are feeling energetic and replenished sufficiently to wake again. Admittedly a brief explanation, the basics… This process can be interrupted though, either by events beyond our control, or by the pressures of necessity in our hectic lives, by illness and worry. When this happens, we suffer, our bodies suffer, our minds become confused and overloaded and insomnia is often a by-product.
Since the beginning of the this year I have been plagued by bouts of insomnia. My circadian rhythm is not behaving. I fall into bed exhausted and mostly, fall quickly to sleep only to wake again within the shortest of time and there, my night is over. I force myself not to move, not to look at the time, I twist and turn, as insomnolent as the leaves on the whispering birch trees in the forest but eventually my resolve loses its hold and I get up again — it is the reason I am writing this at 01H45 when I must rise again at 6 — I am infuriated by it and am visibly exhausted. It drains me, my usual optimistic ‘Duracell bunny’ non stop character is waining and on days like that which will inevitably follow tomorrow I drag myself through each eternal hour with about as much energy as sloth on Valium.
I have tried every natural remedy conceivable, none have worked, or at least not for any length of time, it appears, for the time being to be a part of my life, albeit unwelcome but as such must be endured.
This is how it feels, the sounds, the thoughts, all the sleepless nights…
Night Battles (sleepless) on the hill.
This being, jellied, pacing
insomniac grey
white night, white light
full moon, a trillion stars…
Light in the room
myriad forms
appear,
disappear,
retell…
An owl, staring,
but many other eye’s,
beasts of the night
fox calling fox
a warning,
wild boar grunting, marching, snuffling…
Hounding slumber,
pounding, pillows feel like stones.
Go to your prey
creatures in the dark
leave my being
inside dream filled sleep
leave my oasis of calm
to lonely
to sacred hours
necessarily
peaceful.
You tarnish, this sleep
with your many feet,
go hunt your victims
teeth and claws,
tare the flesh that feeds you
walk your lane
Not mine!
Leave… but in silence!
Please!
Flee my space
my beaten thoughts
disordered by fatigue,
leave peaceful
the night, the stars and moon
leave me quiet
to sweet slumber…
Alone.
My step counter tells me I have taken almost 3 million steps in the first six months of the year… I think it quite possible that almost half of those were walked during the small hours of the morning, when sensible people are sleeping.
And now, once again, I will try this thing called sleep…
We all suffer from insomnia at times. It’s so very frustrating, infuriating when our mind and body cannot find the peace we yearn. Once your school year is finished, I’m sure the past weeks of multiple stresses will diminish and your body will sigh deeply in gratitude, falling into a deep sleep with loud snores. Ones that would wake up Shakespeare...
I'm sorry to hear about this, Susie, especially the bit about being awake when you should be asleep. I was talking about this yesterday with my son, and he told me that he tries to let go of the conditioning of being asleep at certain times, and doing something else. Then he can let go of the resistance to being awake. Eventually we will get back into our sleep pattern. I wonder.... 🤔