My insomnia began when I was fourteen years old, around the time when my father had to leave to work in the provinces. The promise of a vastly greater income and a better life for the family was too good to pass up. Every night during the first month, I cried myself to sleep. The bond I have with my father can’t be defined by mere words. I will not even attempt to describe so personal a connection. The tears of a child are no small matter either. When you are young, every tear you shed is honest and solid, coming not only from your eyes, but struggling from somewhere deep inside the chest and clawing its way out of the back of the throat. Only a child understands genuine pain. And only in a child’s pained spirit can true sleeplessness begin.
Having insomnia is painful in many ways difficult to explain. If you have ever felt complete bodily fatigue, insomnia is at least ten times as agonizing. Imagine being fully aware of your entire body, every bone and blood cell running through every little capillary, and at the same time being fully conscious that there is no rest for you. Your bed, pillows, and blanket, no matter how soft and warm and comfortable, would seem like a cold stone slab with thumb tacks and sharp stones spread over its surface. Every little noise is like a shout or an explosion in your ears. Yes, it feels like you are over-sensitized, as if you have acquired an entirely new set of perceptions. It should be great, but your body starts to feel pain. Not the pain of being wounded or hit or beat up, but a slow and solemn sensation that spreads like fog from inside the top of your skull to the tips of your fingers and toes. The mind becomes a battlefield of a million warring thoughts that can’t be silenced no matter what kind of meditation, focus and concentration, or millions upon millions of sheep jumping over the fences of a million farms. Silent suffering. You end up crying sometimes in desperation, talking to yourself and to the cacophony in your head, "Shut up, let me sleep! Why won’t you let me sleep?!" Sometimes I win the battles, but more often than not, I lose. I try to fall asleep around midnight; just close my eyes and get comfortable, toss and turn a bit. Upon opening them again and glancing at the clock, I see that three hours had passed with me just lying there fully awake but with my eyes closed. In a short while, the alarm clock would start ringing and I just want to scream with frustration.
Whenever I encounter the question, "If you had three wishes, what would they be?" One of my answers will always be "untroubled sleep". People always take sleep for granted. It’s just part of their lives, it happens everyday, so what. Many don’t realize just how precious it is. Try asking any person who works his bones off every damn day and could not sleep at night. He will tell you what kind of relief sleep is - a cool, clean, fresh fountain of water in the parched, scorching desert. There ought to be something that will help me make this wish come true - a lullaby tailored for me to grant me rest. I only want this much, only sleep. If I ever hear such a magic lullaby, I hope it puts me to such blissful sleep that I would never wake up ever again.
Having insomnia is painful in many ways difficult to explain. If you have ever felt complete bodily fatigue, insomnia is at least ten times as agonizing. Imagine being fully aware of your entire body, every bone and blood cell running through every little capillary, and at the same time being fully conscious that there is no rest for you. Your bed, pillows, and blanket, no matter how soft and warm and comfortable, would seem like a cold stone slab with thumb tacks and sharp stones spread over its surface. Every little noise is like a shout or an explosion in your ears. Yes, it feels like you are over-sensitized, as if you have acquired an entirely new set of perceptions. It should be great, but your body starts to feel pain. Not the pain of being wounded or hit or beat up, but a slow and solemn sensation that spreads like fog from inside the top of your skull to the tips of your fingers and toes. The mind becomes a battlefield of a million warring thoughts that can’t be silenced no matter what kind of meditation, focus and concentration, or millions upon millions of sheep jumping over the fences of a million farms. Silent suffering. You end up crying sometimes in desperation, talking to yourself and to the cacophony in your head, "Shut up, let me sleep! Why won’t you let me sleep?!" Sometimes I win the battles, but more often than not, I lose. I try to fall asleep around midnight; just close my eyes and get comfortable, toss and turn a bit. Upon opening them again and glancing at the clock, I see that three hours had passed with me just lying there fully awake but with my eyes closed. In a short while, the alarm clock would start ringing and I just want to scream with frustration.
Whenever I encounter the question, "If you had three wishes, what would they be?" One of my answers will always be "untroubled sleep". People always take sleep for granted. It’s just part of their lives, it happens everyday, so what. Many don’t realize just how precious it is. Try asking any person who works his bones off every damn day and could not sleep at night. He will tell you what kind of relief sleep is - a cool, clean, fresh fountain of water in the parched, scorching desert. There ought to be something that will help me make this wish come true - a lullaby tailored for me to grant me rest. I only want this much, only sleep. If I ever hear such a magic lullaby, I hope it puts me to such blissful sleep that I would never wake up ever again.
(posted elsewhere 18 Jan 2006)
