I believe that falling asleep is one of the most difficult parts of the human condition. Just ask the parents of young children. Problems with sleeplessness also plague many adults. I have recently developed a disturbing new disorder.
I’m too happy to fall asleep.
Happiness insomnia is what I call it, and it’s just as sleep-robbing as the old-fashioned, anxiety-driven kind. I remember those years of mind-racing wakefulness. But something changed when I retired. I no longer had stress keeping me awake. Now I just feel too good to fall asleep.
Sleep experts have identified the warning signs of my condition. It starts with a feeling of complete well-being. Fortunately, I live in Chicagoland, which has an unlimited supply of disturbing news.
Start with the sports teams. To keep from feeling care-free, I religiously watched the Chicago Bulls stumble to a losing record and miss the playoffs. Now I’ve shifted to being a diehard White Sox fan, and have celebrated every one of their six wins.
Bad sports teams, though, aren’t enough to ruin my feeling of optimism. Sleep consultants believe we should raise our misery level just before bedtime. This is why I force myself to watch the local news. The “breaking stories” about random violence make me want to go to bed clutching my pepper spray.
Even the weather reports are terrifying. When I hear the forecast, I want to cower in a basement, ready to light an emergency candle. So you can see there is plenty of bad news to destroy my serenity. But happiness is still keeping me awake.
It’s especially bad if I start feeling grateful. I start off being thankful for my wife and kids. Then I think of our five grandsons. As I toss and turn, I want to scream, “Stop with all the blessings! I’m trying to get some sleep here!” My only negative thought is about the grandsons still expecting me to play basketball.
I also feel fortunate that Forest Park has its share of urban problems. But all it takes is reflecting on the neighborhood celebrations we held for Ed Nutley, Joe Byrnes and the late Dave Novak. There is no way to fall asleep while you’re smiling.
I can’t lie awake thinking about positive things What if I picture my ESL students at Triton? We’ve had a lot of laughs, but they come from troubled countries, like Venezuela, Ukraine and Jordan. There’s nothing funny about that. Then one of them says that learning American expressions is “a piece of cake.” Sorry, that was too heartwarming.
Sleep is a serious business. Although not having a set time to wake up, just adds to the euphoria. Being retired is just like being a lazy teenager again. Stay up late, sleep late and take plenty of naps in between.
Maybe naps are contributing to my sleep disorder. I’m not alone. I have many friends and acquaintances who take medication to help them sleep. They also use sleep machines to provide a soothing background.
We don’t have soothing sounds; we have annoying noise. We have screeching Blue Line trains going around a tight curve. We have the roar of daredevil motorcyclists screaming down the Eisenhower. We have early-morning garbage trucks, leaf-blowing landscapers and the back-up beeping of delivery trucks.
But I still wake up on the right side of the bed, filled with optimism about the new day. This is not normal, so I’m taking steps to address my problem. I recently joined a self-help group for my sleep disorder.
At our meetings, we confess, “I am powerless over happiness.”
