Tags

, ,

There are some things in life we simply cannot make sense of. 

Some things are just beyond human comprehension. 

For example, a woman’s hormones.

I have dealt with insomnia off and on for several years. It’s a horrible, horrible affliction that, after a few nights, leaves me feeling ready and welcoming of and padded room.

After the past week or so of having many insomnia-riddled nights, waking up at 2 or 3 in the morning, I think I finally discovered my problem. 

Heat.

When I had my hysterectomy about 17 months ago, I was fortunate to have no lasting side effects, save two: hot flashes and insomnia. 

The week following my surgery, I didn’t sleep hardly AT ALL after my pain meds were no longer necessary. My doctor prescribed Ambien, and it was a Godsend.

I eventually got to the point where I didn’t need it, and I only take one every once in an blue moon if I’m struggling with sleep. 

I don’t like to take it because, for one, I don’t want to become dependent on it and, for two, I’m not sure if I’m the type to go eat the entire contents of the refrigerator. But I AM sure that I’m the type to post things on social media and not remember it when under the influence of the sleep aid. For someone with my mouthfilter issues, that could be a problem.

My doctor, not wanting me to take any hormones following my surgery (because endometriosis thrives on hormone surges) told me to try and make it without an estrogen supplement for as long as possible. 

So far, by taking certain natural herb supplements, I have been able to keep the hot flashes to a minimum. But some things have changed as of late.

I started taking my antidepressant again and one of its side effects is sweating and hot flash type symptoms.

For instance, I like a hot shower in the mornings. But I have to dry my hair on a cool setting or I will burn up from the inside out. It’s a tradeoff. I’d rather have a hot shower and “meh” hair, than freeze my butt off and then have fabulous hair. Now you know why I usually look like I put my finger in a light socket.

But I digress.

Here’s the rub: I sleep under blankets. 3 in the winter, 2 in the summer. I cannot sleep atop the covers. I feel exposed, unprotected, and not relaxed at all. 

I also sleep in pajama pants. I do not like for the skin on my legs to touch when I’m trying to sleep. Because it produces heat. 

So, my options are: 

  1. Don’t sleep
  2. Jack the A/C down to a comfortable temp

I think you can guess which one I pick.

I turned the air down last night and drifted off to sleep fairly easily. 

I awoke around 2:15 a.m. Wide awake. Uncomfortable. Irritated.

Eventually I got up and realized the A/C had been put back on its regular temperature. I turned it down again and was back to sleep within 30 minutes or so, back in my secure position under two blankets.

This has happened several times over the last couple of weeks as spring has arrived in Mississippi and the 40 degree nights are a thing of the past.

The hubs was already awake when I went to join him for coffee this morning. I attempted to “womansplain” the situation.

I told him, like I told you, that my sleeping habits and the need for cooler temps were not something I could help. I told him, like I told you, that it was a mystery of the universe that defied logic and explanation. It is what it is.

I realize that, come summertime in Mississippi, it will soon be 85 at night and most of us will be praying for the slightest hint of rain or a breeze to bring relief. And my nights of lowering the thermostat will have to come to an end, because, well, power is expensive and I don’t want to have to take on another job just to sleep at night. Since I’m already basically doing TWO jobs, a third would likely cut into my sleep time anyway, which would defeat the purpose of having it.

I just wanted to say, on behalf of everyone I know, men and women, who require certain things to get a good night’s sleep, I understand.

I get it. 

Even though we may look or sound ridiculous to the rest of the world, our spouses, our friends: I feel you. I sympathize and recognize you as not freaks of nature, but victims. Yes VICTIMS of a conditioned way of resting, the barrage of fluctuating hormones, or, if you are like me, a lack thereof. 

We must stand united. In the bedrooms across America, we must stand UNITED for our right to a full night of uninterrupted, peaceful slumber. 

Life is much too short to be unrested and cranky from lack of a necessity like sleep.

I may set up a GoFundMe account this weekend to supplement my electric bill in the coming months, or purchase one of those cooling mattresses. Your donations would be appreciated.

It’s either that, or there may be an altercation at Winstead Manor in the near future. And nobody wants that. I’ve missed my window for using my surgery as an excuse for homicide. 

It’s come down to a point of keeping what little sanity I still possess. I don’t recommend anyone crossing that line. Even my dear, darling husband.

A lack of sleep makes anyone cranky. I need no help in that department as my husband and daughter will attest. 

So if you see me, walking about in a daze, know that it was one of those nights, I might be near my snapping point, and you would be advised to give me a wide berth. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some writing to do for cash that can supplement my power bill and quite possibly save the lives of those around me.

Advertisements