(Had to go into my folder of oldies for this week as my brain is an empty vessel today. Enjoy!)
My Boogeyman- From Thursday, May 11, 2006
I can’t recall a time I didn’t have problems getting to sleep. I often wait until I’m beyond total exhaustion before even attempting to go to bed. Many nights I fare 2-4 hours of restless slumber while others I’m tossing and turning for 10. I don’t hear alarm clocks and I wake up tired. It’s a vicious cycle I can’t seem to break.
I have an overly active mind and imagination. When I lay down my mind kicks into overdrive and I mentally make to-do lists that sometimes span a week or two. Other times I work on my novel that has yet to escape the confines of my brain. Then there are the long nights where I over analyze the events of the day (or my life if I’m really suffering from insomnia). I also have recurring nightmares, such as my Manson dream, that make me not want to go to sleep.
I think, in part, it’s habit. As a kid I spent many a weekend at my Grandparents house. There was a quarter-mile dirt race track just up the road that hosted weekly races on Saturday nights. How anyone in their neighborhood could sleep before midnight on race nights is beyond me! My Grandpa was a volunteer fireman. He had a police scanner on constantly. The speaker was mounted near the ceiling right between the bedroom doors. Each crackle that started the alert of a new announcement would jar us awake.
Like most kids I knew I grew up watching shows such as The Electric Company, Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street. These shows demanded audience participation. You had to engage the old gray matter to really enjoy the show. They encouraged us to think and be creative, to make up stories and act them out. I guess I took that a bit too far.
Remember the Count from Sesame Street? He lived under my bed. He would lie in wait for me to fall asleep with my fingers dangling over the edge of my mattress so he could bite them off, one at a time, while counting “Von, Two, Twee…” I would break out in sweats, shaking with fear at the thought of loosing my fingers. I cried when I saw him on the telly as I knew he was there to warn me he was coming. Being that he was a vampire, I knew that he couldn’t come out in the daytime. Soooo, if I stayed awake til it was light outside (something I don’t recall ever being successful at) then he wouldn’t be able to have his midnight snack. Problem solved, right?
To this day I won’t go to sleep with my fingers hanging over the edge of the bed. It’s silly, I know, but I just can’t do it. I don’t know that the Count is really the reason I developed my sleeping habits, but I think of him every time my husband complains about them. I should probably thank him, the Count, for allowing me the countless hours of imagination that spawned many a great adventure. Maybe one day I’ll even write a book. If so, you can be sure he’ll be first on the dedication page.