Sleepless Summer Slumber

I slept in today. Only until 8am, which to some isn’t much, but it’s something. I don’t usually get a chance to have the bed to myself. Working in a school, means I’m often out of bed before my husband. There’s something quite nice about a double bed to yourself. All that space. You can become a starfish, spread-eagled and free.

It makes me think of my childhood. My sister and I had big imaginations and so we used to go inside of our quilt covers and pretend there was a whole shopping centre in there! We’d get McDonald’s and Greggs and go clothes shopping.

But ever since I was a little girl, and still to this day, I’ve been a poor sleeper. I sleep much better now but beds don’t solely mean comfort for me. They meant wetting the bed until an embarrassing age. They meant the fear of another sleepless night staring at the ceiling. They meant being ravaged by nightmares in my mind only to find shadows stalking me in the dark of my bedroom.

I had another nightmare last night, hence the sleeping in this morning. After I woke from it, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was worrying about the boy I’d dream about, who was attacked by a gang in my area (a very realistic and possible scenario). But then, like I’m known to do, I started thinking about everything else! I need to plan out my solo stay at home “yoga retreat” day. I need to start my training. I need to put things to sell on Vinted. I need to check out more Birmingham artists I can put in my novel.

It’s crazy how loud the mind gets when all is quiet. It brings me to tears, sometimes, thinking about all those nights spent thinking while others rested. I’ve never lived alone and I didn’t have many years without sharing a bedroom with someone. So throughout my childhood, teenhood and early adulthood, I watched my sister sleep soundly every night. Snoring loud and proud, doing her gymnastics as she slept, talking to me about toast and kangaroos, to which I’d answer only to realise she was still asleep. Then there was some time in between to myself, but then my then boyfriend (now husband) moved in with us and I have shared a bed ever since. And he’s a sound sleeper, too! Just the other night he was telling me about his excellent sleep score through his Garmin watch!

Deem me jealous.

When we were little, my sister and I would wake the other if we had a nightmare. I’ve probably told this story before, but as a storyteller, you do recycle a fee to fit your purpose! Anyway, after we told each other the bad dream, we’d fall asleep holding hands the second time, so that we could enter the dream together and defeat the monster. What a beautiful idea! Such clever kids. And now, it’s my breathlessness and panic that wakes my husband beside me. Whenever it does, he holds me or strokes my back to calm me, asking if I want to tell him what happened.

I can cry over years of nightmare-ridden sleep (when I do manage to sleep!), or I can be grateful that I’ve always had people to help me through the nightmares.

I guess I’m lucky, after all.

Sincerely,

S. xx