Two days in a row I told myself I was going to lay down for a nap and rest. I found so much to do other than rest. I actually got up and cooked, which anymore isn’t normal for me. I made a small beef steak, potatoes, fresh rolls and snap beans. Now, you let me feel better again and I’ll be content to eat cereal or nuke a can of green beans but now that I’m sick and should be in bed I figure I’ll get up and make huge meals. When I should rest I figure instead I’ll paint or get online and read or pace the floors or, or, or.
Two days in a row now I’ve been so tired my little ones have literally begged me to go lay down. “Can we go to sleep, please?” I can feel my body nearly crumbling under exhaustion. I’m so tired my mind bends and creaks. “Can we go to sleep, please, can’t we just go lay down?” I want to, I really do. When I finally make it to the bed I face the wall so as not to see everything around me. Hypervigilance won’t allow me to rest if I don’t face the wall. Hypervigilance won’t allow me to rest is I don’t have in ear plugs. So there I am, plugged and facing the wall left alone with my racing thoughts. One person is going on and on about how a mess the house is. Another person is going on and on about how stupid Blossom is and how she can’t believe we’re still talking to the woman. My 5 year old is complaining about how Blossom insists upon thinking of her as her special little one. Her twin sister is signing sarcastic replies to such a disturbing suggestion. I find myself snickering at the two then realize I’m laughing to myself out loud. Lord, I must be crazy. I’m so happy no one but the dog and cats are here to witness this. By this time Gracie has discovered the neon green ear plugs and wants to pull them out so she can play cat soccer. So in addition to trying to quiet everyone I’m now fending off the cat.
An agreement has been struck; if everyone is quiet and we sleep we’ll get up the next day and make a strawberry shake. A young teen begins to quiet the rest with a shush and two hands showing how to lower one’s voice. The little ones are smiling, the big ones are still anxious because sleep means dreaming. So now we get up and we’re back to pacing. “We’re not getting a shake are we?” “You didn’t actually think we were did you” says one to another. Sorry guys, sleep and rest are for those who don’t have PTSD, we have PTSD.
Side note: They got their lactose free strawberry shake and a peppermint disk. We got very little rest, we did have nightmares and we’re still sick. Tomorrow evening we’ll have therapy for the first time in awhile.
Rest Is For Those Without PTSD -Thursday, June 05, 2008-6:42PM EST
I can so relate. Not to the people in my head part but definitely to the rest. PTSD is a lot about negotiation, finding a way to sort through it all and get some rest, any little bit helps.
When my thoughts are racing like that I have a box I keep by my bedside (or couch side atm), made at my T’s suggestion. It’s a box with a stack of post-it notes beside it on which I write all the thoughts that pop into my head as I struggle to get to sleep. It’s like a deposit box, and it’s by way of a promise to myself that when I wake up I’ll deal with whatever is in there. I thought maybe you and yours might find the idea useful - everyone gets to have a say and perhaps it’ll make things a little quieter? IDK, just thought I’d share because it genuinely helps me sometimes. Mind, sometimes there’s just way too much static, plain and simple.
Thank you CK. I use to do something like that a long time ago. I forgot about it.
I wonder if the cat will raid that little ATM and play cat soccer with the paper? Will I wake the next morning and find she’s pulled papers out to make herself a nice little bed, the same as how she does with my ever so soft Kleenex? She won’t solve any of my problems but she may keep them safe under a warm blanket of furry love.
Thanks again for reminding me about that. It did help when I did it.
Austin
Hmm I always thought it was OCD that made me unable to rest. The compulsive need to have everything just right.
Like CK said, I keep a pad of paper and pencil on the nightstand. If something I think I “have” to do pops in my head, I write it down. Then promise to deal with it later.
You described to a T what I often go through in trying to get a good night’s sleep.
The only thing I’ve found helpful is to not fight it. Writing does sometimes help, but with me I find that it helps more to write off the subject–rather than writing down my thoughts at the moment, or why I can’t sleep, I’ll work on a poem, or a bit of fiction.