I don’t think I go to sleep anymore. I’m starting to believe I spend some time staring at my phone wandering aimlessly, as one does, in order to quiet the other voices for some time so that I am able to fill the gap between the waking me and my need for sleep. I stare into the dissociative abyss that is Reddit, some weird meme, or something that will take the edge off. If diet cokes are fridge cigarettes my phone is ambien.
Part of my sleeping routine is seeing a bunch of ads about how I should be sleeping right now, how a man of my age maybe needs a cpap machine (I don’t algorithm!) or how the spike in cortisol (???) is will inevitably wake me up at 3 am in a pool of my own sweat. Something about fight or flight, sleeping outside, ice baths, saunas and using red light glasses while sleeping in a temperature controlled waterbed does not seem to be the most conducive environment to sleep but hey, what do I know? I sleep like shit!
I have indeed slept horribly for as long as I can remember, no news there, it comes and goes. Sometimes it’ll be stress, sometimes I’ve had a few too many drinks or maybe that burger was a horrible idea. It gives me something to point to. Pillow is bad, mattress sucks, I miss my bed, I hate this bed, there’s a particular noise that is driving me nuts that won’t let me let go of the waking world. You’ve faced it, I’ve faced it but instead of trying to diagnose my sleep issues (although my wife will continue to insist I do a sleep study) I keep coming back to the little light portal I stare at every night.
It is, bar none, the singular commonality anywhere I happen to sleep. It’s like a little reward after a day of staring at larger more complicated screens that I can manipulate my intake with a swipe and it’s this exact reason why it sucks so much. My phone is a reminder of quite literally everything I try to let go every night, the stuff that’s still yet to be accomplished (not in the grand sense, this is not that kind of newsletter - more like booking a dentist appt) or the things I’ve been trying to ignore like the news. It’s a reminder there’s more to consume and it consumes me, I think if I could stay awake forever without going insane or suffering catastrophic physical failure I would give it a shot.
But much like immortality, this sounds great in theory, horrible in practice. Staying awake past the sleepy due date is an invitation to visit the fourth circle of Hell, the one reserved for hoarders and wasters. It catches up with the best of us, something caffeine or a shot straight to the arm cannot bring back. It’s not the lack of sleep, or the subpar nature of it, it’s what that time does to your sense of everything else. It’s a safe environment you’re fully in control of, maybe the only time during the day you’ve felt that way - kinda like a warm fuzzy blanket for your mind that gets to just, be there, half plugged in slowly shorting away.
Yet, “this madness inducing cycle must stop!” he said, as he swiped his thumb up for another piece of free content. I drink from the slop content fountain willingly, joyfully, sleep is the price. What good is dying with sleep in the bank?