Unfolding gradually into January, February...
"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?" ~ Ernest Hemingway
I don't know what's happening with me, but my algorithms are off.
I'm bloody well exhausted.
Nothing has changed in my life to warrant this level of exhaustion, but as my doctor friend advised, I suspect it's Februaritis.
The bit that sees you through Christmas to the end of January and the realisation that the first month of the new year is done, thank god!
I'm adhering as best as possible to taking my daily vitamins, a new habit I am trying to form.
At best, I am sporadic, feigning proper food and a healthy diet over vitamins.
I realise that my body needs a boost due to age, lack of sleep, and the time of year.
Despite my newfound habit, I wake up and crawl to the bathroom in search of some mystic elixir that will rejuvenate my body, which feels like that of a seventy-five-year-old.
Reputedly, long-term tiredness is debilitating; it might not kill you, but long-term it ain't pretty.
My second boss, a psychologist who owned a recruitment agency, saw sleep as a luxury - if you want to be successful, you must work long hours.
And I did.
Fatuous advice because, as we all know, humans need plenty of sleep to function and thrive.
I suffered the consequence of lack of sleep and being driven hard, which culminated in a mental breakdown and severe depression, resulting in twelve weeks off work and a job role that saw me shunted to the bottom of the employment pile when I eventually returned.
Nice work if you can get it...
Not a nice lady as it turned out, she was an abominable person, preying on the vulnerabilities of her young staff.
It gave me great satisfaction to hand in my resignation a month later.
Yet, she taught me some valuable life lessons: You are the most singularly important person, and self-care is not just a luxury but a fundamental necessity for our well-being. It took me a long time to appreciate this, as I always try to put others first, especially family, friends and loved ones.
Routine and sleep are vital for everyday performance. Although there are untold stresses and pressures, believing we can get everything done in one day is a fallacy.
Another life lesson I learned the hard way.
There is rarely anything that important that it must absolutely get done today.
Talking of sleep, my favourite place is my bed.
I look forward to the physical act of getting ready for bed; it is a ritual, from turning down the bed to drawing the curtains and blinds to dimming the lights.
Then there's that wondrous moment when you climb into bed, the coolness of the duvet before it envelopes you in warmth.
Reading one of the many books I have on the bedside table, preparation for what I hope will be a good night's sleep.
Without it, I am a hapless human being.
I can't function, think or act, and menopause compounds the situation.
You can be flying through a month, averaging a good night's sleep, then boom, you face a week or two of uncertainty with little or no sleep and almost dread going to bed.
The statistics make for horrible reading.
In the UK alone, 71% of us don't get the recommended 7-9 hours of sleep; in the US, 32.8% of adults get less than the recommended amount.
In 2023, the Nuffield Health Healthier Nation Index reported that the average sleep per night is 5.91 hours, and 14% get less than five hours. I fall between these two!
In the UK, 64% of 17-23-year-olds report sleeping problems, and I can vouch for that finding as my 21-year-old regularly complains at least twice a week of having had a bad night's sleep due to studies or general worrying.
No wonder sleep deprivation is linked to mental health issues; there's too much worrying going on when we should be sleeping.
Here's a thought: perhaps the sleepyheads among us could invent the Insomniac Olympics:
Coherent sentence challenge - participants must be able to construct a grammatically coherent sentence after 24 hours of sleep deprivation. Judges award points for the most logical and creative sentences. That’s me with a good night's sleep.
How about the unnecessary task game? The object of the game is to open a box of cereal while taking as many steps as possible, showcasing the inefficacy of the human mind when sleep-deprived. You should see me open a cereal box regardless of lack of sleep. I destroy the thing.
Finally, the coffee-making relay comprises teams of four competitors who attempt to brew coffee in a percolator. Points are awarded based on the speed it takes and if they remember the water and the paper funnel thingey.
I think the answer to lack of sleep is an afternoon nap if only I had the time.
I love the idea of an afternoon siesta, which is still prevalent in Mediterranean countries today; maybe not so in the big cities, but it is visible in seaside resorts and local villages where shops close. Life stops momentarily but for the sounds of the waves breaking the shoreline and the gentle sound of snoring.
The Japanese call it Inemuri sleeping on the job. In the US, power napping was the rage in the 1990s. NASA initiated the practice, suggesting that taking a short nap helps pilots stay alert during their shifts.
Worryingly, who is flying the plane while this napping is taking place?
zzzzzzzzzzz
Happy snoozing.
