I Hate Heavy Sleepers

Do you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow? Can you fall asleep anywhere? In any situation?

Have you ever legitimately slept standing up/at your desk/awkwardly stuffed into a piece of uncomfortable furniture/for the duration of a road trip?

Do you fall asleep and STAY asleep until your alarm goes off?

If you answered "YES" to any of these, I hate you.

My entire life, I've been a shitty sleeper. Any sort of negative modifier you can think of, I am.




It blows harder than that one "fast" girl you went to high school with who was giving BJs before you had even mastered a standard hand job.

I have sleep anxiety, which isn't so much speaking to the act of sleep itself but rather falling and staying asleep. It's only been elevated to new levels over the past year with having to retrain myself to get up for the gym in the mornings. Add to that the addition of the FitBit in my life, and watch as my horrific sleep patterns are tracked in real-time.

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Once the clock strikes 9pm, if I'm not wrapping up for the night and making my way to my in-desperate-need-of-an-upgrade bed setup, the anxiety starts. Once it's 9:30pm, if I'm not laying flat on my back making my end-of-day social media scrolls, we have a problem. Once it's between 10-10:30pm, if I'm not asleep or a few sheep away from it, the anxiety starts. 

"Shit. I need to be asleep by now."

"I'm not good on less than 7-8 hours."

"Why am I not passing out? I was so tired earlier."

"Should I read? No. I don't want to fumble around trying to find my book."

"I'll just lay here. Sleep will come. It has to. Don't focus on it."

"I'm hot." half-way stands on bed to turn fan up "That should do it."

"I need to turn the heat down, too." gets out of bed and fucks with thermostat  "Ok. There. We should be good to go now."


"How am I already out of cold spots in the bed??? It's just me and Cece. Where did all the cold spots go?"

"Oh! There's one! Ahhhhh."

"No wait. I need to save it for when I really need it. Must ration cold spots."

"It's 10:45. If I fall asleep now, I'll have exactly 7 hours until I have to get up for the gym."

"It's 11. 6 hours and 45 minutes."

"Maybe I can just do the gym after work tomorrow."

"No, I HATE evening gym. It's the actual worst."

"Stop being a pussy, Emma. People run on 5 hours or sleep a less every single day. Even if you fall asleep at midnight, you're still going to the gym. You won't DIE."

"But what if I do though?"

counts sheep.

starts drifting off.

"How much do I have in my savings again?" pulls out phone to check.

"That's pretty deece. I need to up it, though."

starts drifting off.

"Wait is it gonna be freezing in the morning?" pulls out phone to check.

"God I just wish Texas would pick a season and stick to it. I can't handle it being spring every other week."

"What should I wear tomorrow?"

mentally goes through entirety of closet.

"Oh, that's cute. That'll be cute. Ok coolcool. Tight."

"It's 11:30. Fuck me. I won't fall asleep until midnight and then I'm really screwed."

finally, somehow, falls asleep.

4 hours later...

gets up to pee at 2:30.

"Sigh. I wonder if anything has gone down on social media in the 4 hours I've been sleeping with the rest of the world." pulls out phone to check.

falls down rabbit hole on (rarely-checked) Twitter, reading favorite comedian's tweets.

retweets a handful. takes screenshots to send to friends next day.

puts phone away.

"It's 3:30??? HOW. WHY AM I NOT ASLEEP."

"COOL. Guess I won't be getting up for the gym in 3 hours. Ughhhhh."



Now, this isn't every night by any means. It's only the really bad ones. But the really bad ones create a sense of terror and anticipatory anxiety in the individual who experiences them. Of course, on weekends, I couldn't be further from this snapshot of shitty sleep. I sleep like a blubbering British King full of wine and turkey leg. OF COURSE. But weeknights are anyone's guess. I never really know what I'm going to get. And as if my mind on its own isn't enough already to keep me awake, these spontaneous factors don't help:

Cece barking at random... 

Cece also being restless/farting mid-sleep...

The infrequent but welcomed addition of a human body next to me...

Alcohol having been consumed that evening...

"Nurse Jackie" having stimulated my mind beyond reparation...

ZZZquil not doing it's damn job...

The neighbors outside my window making odd noises...

Dreams about an old woman trying to open my bathroom stall door and me having to yell "STOP, I'M POOPING!" and waking up in a cold sweat...

The list goes on. This post has no real purpose but to serve as a platform for me to lament about how weak of a sleeper I can be. That's all. I mean, if you have advice, that's tight. If you have no words of comfort for me but you feel this post so hard, that's great too. Write in the comments with any reaction.