Adventures in Insomnia: How I Spent Years Sabotaging My Sleep
By: Mike Ryan
Tags: Sobriety, Sleep, Recovery, Insomnia, Addiction

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

When I was 12 or 13, I started having sleep problems. I would lay in bed tossing and turning, shifting from my right side to my left, unable to find a comfortable position and settle my mind. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep at all. This started occurring more frequently. One night of bad sleep would turn into two. I started dreading getting into bed at night, and the more I worried about not sleeping, the worse my insomnia got.

On one of these sleepless nights, I gave up and turned on the little TV in my room. I just so happened to tune in to a program about sleep disorders. One of the segments featured a story about a Chicago area teacher named Michael Corke. Corke, a 40-year-old otherwise healthy man, started experiencing insomnia over summer break in 1991. Eventually, he stopped sleeping completely. Over the weeks that followed he began to deteriorate mentally and physically, developing dementia and losing his ability to communicate. By the time Corke was admitted to a hospital, he hadn’t slept for almost 4 months. Doctors struggled to understand what was wrong with Michael, and in the end they could do little to help. Michael Corke died in 1992 after 6 months of almost complete sleep deprivation.

Sitting in bed watching this in the dark, I was terrified. Any chance I had of finding sleep that night quickly evaporated.

Michael Corke suffered from a rare disease called fatal familial insomnia. You can read about the details of the disease here, but the short version is that those afflicted have a gene mutation that eventually makes sleep impossible. They experience a host of unpleasant symptoms in addition to insomnia including hallucinations, loss of balance, loss of temperature regulation, dementia, and impotence. Although primarily a genetic disease, some have developed fatal insomnia without a family history of the gene variation.

Although Corke’s story is extremely rare, most of us have experienced the frustration of a sleepless night or two. Usually, the causes of insomnia are easy to identify. Periods of high stress or a sudden life change like the start of a new job can trigger insomnia, but these bouts are usually short-lived. When insomnia does persist for no obvious reason, it can be scary. My own insomnia, as I’ve learned, was mostly preventable. I made it worse by looking for relief in all the wrong places.

My insomnia progression

I have always had a problem with circular thinking. I replay memories in my head to the point of insanity, or I dwell on problems that haven’t even occurred yet. Logically I know that thinking can’t change events, but god knows my mind has tried. This is where my insomnia started. I’d stay up nights unable to turn off the movies in my head.

In high school, this type of thinking got worse. I had a good home life and lots of friends, but I couldn’t sleep most nights. As a result, I wasn’t functioning well during the day. I got teased for the persistent puffy, dark circles under my eyes. I had trouble concentrating in class. I became moody and depressed.

As my sleep got worse, I looked for help. But I didn’t tell my parents and ask them to take me to a doctor. Instead, I went into the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of NyQuil. I had taken NyQuil before when I was sick, and I knew it caused drowsiness. I also liked the loopy feeling I got from it. It wasn’t long before I was taking it regularly.

NyQuil turned out to be a hit-or-miss strategy. Some nights it worked, sending me into a deep dreamless sleep. Other nights, it seemed to have the opposite effect, making my legs restless and my heart race. Any sleep I got was punctuated with bizarre and sometimes terrifying dreams. Mostly, it wasn’t effective enough, so I stopped taking it. But it was only the beginning of my substance taking habit. Later the substances got stronger and more dangerous.

All the drugs that didn’t help

In my twenties, I fell in love with alcohol. For a time, drinking seemed to solve my sleep issues. I would get hammered to the point of losing consciousness. Falling asleep became easy. But that didn’t mean I was sleeping soundly. I would wake up after a few hours, either to puke or as a result of withdrawal, my brain pumping my body with stimulants to counteract the depressive effect of alcohol.

On the nights that I didn’t drink heavily, I began to rely on over-the-counter sleeping pills. I had gotten so used to the anesthetic effect of alcohol that falling asleep naturally wasn’t going to happen. As time progressed and I developed a tolerance for the pills, I started to take them even on nights that I did drink heavily. I had no idea how dangerous this was. People die from that combination all the time. I was lucky I always woke up.

By my late 20’s, I realized the danger drinking was putting me in. I had a few relationships fall apart and several close calls with the law. I wanted to significantly cut down. But instead of just cutting down, I tried replacing booze with something else, so I started smoking pot.

I have never really enjoyed the marijuana high. I think I just wanted anything to take me out of a sober existence, and pot seemed safer than booze. The problem with smoking pot, though, is that it exacerbates my insomnia. It sends me deep into my mind and makes me paranoid and anxious. Despite having several weed-induced panic attacks over the years, I kept doing it. I don’t know why. The anxiety from the pot only made me want to drink more. Soon, I was drinking and smoking pot every night, getting little sleep, and struggling through the day an anxious mess.

In my early thirties, I added Adderall to the mix. Both my mom and girlfriend had prescriptions, and I would help myself to their pills. Because I don’t have ADD, Adderall was like low-grade cocaine. I loved the speedy feeling it gave me. I would drink cup after cup of coffee to accelerate the alertness. Then in the evening, I would drink beer and smoke pot to try and come down. The combination of uppers and downers was a lovely symphony of dopamine tingles. Yet, no matter how early in the day I took the Adderall, my mind would continue to race full-blast when I tried to sleep. I embraced my insomnia as an annoyance I was all too willing to exchange for the high. Of course, I was kidding myself — I was actually miserable.

When it all came crashing down I was staying up most nights drinking vodka and snorting lines of Adderall between bowls of pot. I was utterly exhausted, had constant pains in my body, and basically looked like shit all the time. I was at the end of the road and I knew it. After 15 years of abuse, I was ready to hop off the crazy train and find real rest.

Sobriety and good sleep

In sobriety, my sleep has improved. But I had to endure many nights of sleepless hell before getting there. Withdrawing from booze and drugs is a nightmare in itself. When you add a decade long sleeping problem to the mix, you’re gonna have a bad time. But when sleep finally did come, it was glorious. At first, I did not dream, but eventually dreams returned in full color. For the first time, I was looking forward to going to bed at night.

I still have nights where I get almost no sleep from circular thinking. But no sleep in sobriety is way better than the few hours of restless sleep from passing out drunk.

I have developed a few tools to help me find better sleep without drugs. Mostly, it comes down to replacing bad habits with healthy ones. Some of these may work for you too.

Sticking to a regular bedtime: I’m in bed by 11 every night, even most weekends. This trains my mind and body to expect sleep at a certain time.

I’m in bed by 11 every night, even most weekends. This trains my mind and body to expect sleep at a certain time. Implementing a winding down routine: An hour before bed I do things to get my mind and body relaxed. I turn off the TV and cut out any social media or internet use. I spend about 15 minutes doing light yoga or stretching. I then read for 30 minutes and write in my journal.

An hour before bed I do things to get my mind and body relaxed. I turn off the TV and cut out any social media or internet use. I spend about 15 minutes doing light yoga or stretching. I then read for 30 minutes and write in my journal. Practicing deep breathing: I find that on nights I can’t sleep my breathing is shallow and my heart rate is elevated. Deep breathing helps me relax and slow my systems down. I simply focus on my breath with a few rounds of deep inhales and exhales.

I find that on nights I can’t sleep my breathing is shallow and my heart rate is elevated. Deep breathing helps me relax and slow my systems down. I simply focus on my breath with a few rounds of deep inhales and exhales. Engaging in self-love: If I still am a little restless, I find that good old-fashioned masturbation (without porn) works great. It’s science!

If I still am a little restless, I find that good old-fashioned masturbation (without porn) works great. It’s science! Indulging in the occasional melatonin: I don’t make this a regular habit. Occasionally though, I allow it if I’m particularly stressed or wound up. I understand this to be much safer and better on the liver than sleeping pills.

I don’t make this a regular habit. Occasionally though, I allow it if I’m particularly stressed or wound up. I understand this to be much safer and better on the liver than sleeping pills. Getting up when I can’t sleep: This may sound counterintuitive, but staying in bed when I can’t sleep only makes it worse. If I’m still awake after an hour in bed, I will get up and read in another room. There’s no point in staying in bed just to be miserable.

This may sound counterintuitive, but staying in bed when I can’t sleep only makes it worse. If I’m still awake after an hour in bed, I will get up and read in another room. There’s no point in staying in bed just to be miserable. If all else fails, I don’t sweat it: I don’t try to force sleep. We aren’t guaranteed blissful sleep every night. If sleep isn’t in the cards, I accept it, but I try to rest as much as possible with meditation and breathing exercises. Living a healthy lifestyle means that one night of insomnia will not throw off my game too much.

If you struggle with insomnia, know that your lifestyle plays a big role. I’ve mistreated my mind and body long enough, and I no longer take sleep for granted. Good sleep is an indicator of good health. And as Michael Corke’s story shows us, your life depends on it.