23 - Sleep

(Want to listen instead?? More screen time! I narrate my story in audio format here)

For those of you who have ever had pets, have you ever envied them? Bob is laying on the floor next to my bed in his (though at some point in the night he’ll jump up and snuggle next to me, making his bed almost irrelevant). His little paws are currently twitching and muffled “woof” sounds are escaping through his big jowls as he slips into a dream. Truthfully, I don’t think I would actually like being a dog. It would frustrate me not being able to choose the food I want to eat. I wouldn’t like being crated. And I don’t think I would enjoy risking pinkeye every time I greeted another of my kind… But I do envy Bob’s ability to fall asleep anywhere, instantly.

It’s late at night and although I’m tired, I can’t fall asleep. I’m visiting back home in Winnipeg and I’m staying with my parents in the house I grew up in. I’m currently laying in bed, in my old room. The walls are now a light yellow - no longer the lilac purple they once were. Fewer decorations now speckle the walls, whereas my teen years had these plastered with posters of Incubus, Radiohead, S Club 7 and X-Files.

Despite these stark changes, traces of my room left behind still reveal my history here: a green and gold sombrero brought back from a trip to Mexico still hangs on the wall; a Minnie Mouse piggy bank is still in great condition on top of the nightstand; my old dresser still has a couple of dinosaur stickers stuck to the frame of the mirror while figurines of Scooby Doo, a Ninja Turtle and Snow White scatter the countertop’s surface. Next to the mirror hangs a Crosstitch my mom made for me when I was young. The image depicts a pile of toys, including a teddy bear, a boat, a duck on wheels and a rocking-horse. Above the pile of toys read the words “This mess belongs to KRYSTAL.” These artifacts paint quite the picture of passed me. But they all also reveal a quirky present day Krystal, who feels like she never truly grew up.

Laying in bed, in this moment, I realize that these mismatched decorations aren’t the only things that have seemingly stayed the same over the years. Right now, in this room, I am a living artifact of nostalgia for my younger self who for years had trouble falling asleep.

From a young kid through to my teen years, I distinctly remember getting frustrated and upset not being able to easily fall asleep. When I was quite young, I would just lay in my bed and cry until my sobs woke up my parents. There was often no clear reason for my inability to fall asleep. I don’t remember being afraid of the dark. I don’t remember wanting to stay awake. Looking back now, it was probably the beginning of my issues with anxiety and ruminating thoughts that kept me awake. Though, my parents do like to tell the story of this one time I couldn’t fall asleep in the spring - I was crying looking out my bedroom window, completely agitated because the snow was melting. Now don’t get me wrong, I still love the snow to this day. Although in the last several years I’ve seen some weirdly warm winters here in Canada, melting snow is not what is keeping me awake tonight.

Trouble sleeping is actually a symptom and side effect of PCS. It is one of the symptoms assessed on the SCAT questionnaire for concussions. People with PCS can experience anything from an excessive need to sleep to insomnia. I have experienced both of these extremes and everything in between. When I first had my most recent injury, during the first week I was sleeping around 16 hours a day, with regular naps during the remaining eight. In contrast, during the first few months of my first concussion in 2011, I barely slept at night. I remember being so anxious in the evening when it got dark. I would look at my bed, frustrated, upset and angry thinking about the night ahead. I was extremely tired and in pain but unable to sleep, unable to take a rest and get away from it all.

I am not exactly sure what causes the sleep troubles. I understand that in brain injury there is less energy for your brain to use. During sleep is when our body rests and recovers. It makes sense to me that our brain post injury would need more sleep to recover, explaining the excessive amount of sleep I have experienced in the beginning. To this day, if I do more activities than usual during the week, it can all catch up to me and I will have nights where I sleep up to 12 hours solid. Outside of that, general chronic fatigue makes it so that I still sometimes need naps. On average though I’d say I do best with 9 to 10 hours of sleep every night. If I try to push through, it makes my symptoms worse.

Interestingly, overstimulation can also have the exact opposite effect on me. There is no rhyme or reason to this, but sometimes when I have done more than my brain can handle (like using a screen for too long, too much time in a busy loud environment or too much physical activity) this can also disturb my sleep habits. As I am currently at home for the holidays, pushing my brain limits to be able to go out and see friends and family, I believe it is this that is causing me to be “Sleepless in Winnipeg” tonight.

As a kid, to help deal with my sleep troubles, my mom had a little routine for me. In my room I had one of those wind up dolls - the ones with the turn key at the back that when wound up played music. This particular doll was a clown that sat on my dresser facing my bed. Before turning off the lights at bedtime, my mom would sing to me “Mr. music!” and I would joyfully respond “Please!” My mom would then wind up the doll and I would listen to the music as the lights went out and I got cosy in bed. This was a fun ritual until the day my brother babysat me and said “Hey, do you want to watch a movie about a clown?” An excited 7-year old me said “Yeah!” I then sat down and watched the entirety of Stephen King’s “It.” My clown music doll certainly did not help me fall asleep after that…

Routine or rituals before bed are often promoted for good sleep hygiene. In the past year, I have taken to massaging my own feet before bed, doing a bit of meditation, laying in bed with one hand on my heart and the other on my belly and focusing on my breath before falling asleep. Although these sleep hygiene things do help me a bit, they do not solve the root of the problem - my PCS and anxiety disorder. So I continue to go through waves of weird sleep patterns.

I’m lying awake in bed in the room I grew up in - in the same room I first developed troubles with sleep. I hear the echos of a younger me crying while tonight a present day me is simply just frustrated (though I’m sure even 30 years later my mom would still run into my room to console me upon hearing my sobs, lol). Even without a creepy clown doll in the room, being awake solitary at night with no one to talk to and nothing but my anxious thoughts to listen to can be kind of scary. At the very least, it is very very lonely. This makes me look at the Crosstitch on the wall and think that this frustration is my mess and my mess alone. So I should probably do my best to accept it and sleep in it.

Old patterns can be hard to break. Especially when new issues make them worse. But I should do my best to try. And if I truly am living nostalgia of a former me, then I would do best to break this lifelong sleep problem pattern in the next three months…before the snow melts.

Best in brain health and a good night’s sleep for all,

- Krystal