For most of my teenage years, I was afraid of dreaming. It petrified me so much that I deliberately stopped myself from falling into a deep sleep.
When I was 12 years old, I dreamt I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. When I woke up the next morning, I convinced myself the dream actually happened and that I was now suffering from a lethal condition.
The stress from this dream stuck with me for almost six years, affecting me into my early adulthood. Dreams about health anxiety aren’t uncommon by any means, but this one felt ominously realistic. Regardless of how absurd it was, the intrusive thoughts from my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder made it impossible to convince myself I was healthy.
Until I was 14, I thought the Grim Reaper was waiting for me around every corner. I became detached from reality and the people closest to me because I didn’t see the point in being positive or hopeful when I thought I was going to die.
Every churn of my stomach, sniffle of my nose or bout of muscle soreness reminded me of my imaginary diagnosis and I would spiral all over again.
It took me two years to snap out of the paranoia. I woke up one morning and never thought about having that illness again. As much as thinking I was sick tormented me, I wasn’t relieved when I realized I was fine. I was ashamed I let my brain convince me of something so unrealistic.
For years after, I was plagued with anxiety over my imagination. I wasn’t concerned about being sick anymore, but because a dream caused my years-long paranoia, I became afraid of sleeping entirely. So I took it upon myself to sleep in small increments to reduce the chances of dreaming.
Almost every night until I was about 18, I would fight exhaustion and sleep for only three hours, pretending it was enough to make me feel rested. In reality, I was irritable, anxious and unfocused.
I was letting anxieties surrounding an obsessive episode from six years ago control me. As I moved into adulthood, I realized the lack of rest was simply not an option and I had to move on from my past emotions.
When I started college, I vowed to start sleeping regularly which took more commitment than I imagined. My body started playing catch-up and the sleep debt made me feel more tired than I ever had been.
It was shameful because oversleeping is associated with laziness and waking up is considered voluntary. This is true for most, but since I deprived myself of rest for so long, my need for sleep was chronic.
I slept through most of my morning classes and was constantly late for morning shifts at work. I would lie about the reasons I was late or absent because the shame prevented me from being honest. I felt like I should’ve been in full control of my body and mind, but I wasn’t. There were inklings of guilt too, because my sleep issues were beginning to affect my work and school life.
In August, my need for sleep dissipated as I rested more. It took almost two years to overcome the anxieties that stemmed from one dream, but reflecting on the last eight years of my life wrestling with sleep deprivation forces me to push forward. I refuse to succumb to the anxiety brought on by dreaming now. I beat myself down for nearly a decade because of my paranoia and I know now that it’s not worth it.
My relationship with sleep is still troubled and I haven’t fully recovered from the false memory I created. Unsettling dreams can leave me rattled for days at a time, but I’ve started to welcome sleep’s embrace and expose myself to the realm of dreams.
When I look at old pictures and stare at the cross expressions on my face, I remember how lethargic I was then. I lacked the vibrancy I have now and I love myself enough now to try and preserve it.
It felt like an eternity getting to 20 years old, but now I’m reincarnated and overjoyed to experience the beauty of life. I don’t let my obsessions manifest in the way they did when I was 12 because it affected me so greatly.
I felt my lack of sleep everywhere in my body. At the height of my sleep deprivation, my stomach, muscles, bones and mind were degraded. In this new era, I wanted nothing more than rest, love and prosperity.
As the saying goes, “the body keeps the score,” and I’m determined to outscore it in the second half.
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