To dream perchance of sleep

Dear Friends,

If someone had warned me of the insomnia issues that accompany menopause, I would have slept more than 8 hours a day in my youth and never would have pulled all-nighters. Like a squirrel waiting for a blizzard, I'd have put all of my sleep savings in the bank and never would have considered burning the candle at both ends. In short, I'd have appreciated slumber before it left me high and dry.

My sleep problems are sucking my brain dry.

Forget 8 hours, I would give anything if I could fall asleep and stay that way for just 5 to 6 hours straight. Lately, I stumble into bed, exhausted, read a page on my kindle and fall fast asleep only to awaken abruptly 8.2 seconds later, wide awake and praying for sleep. If I do manage to fall asleep, I awaken sweaty and hot in no time at all, sometimes several times a night, and lay there waiting for sleep to come again. I play a game called musical blankets all through the night. Blankets on, blankets off, blankets on, off, on, off, on. You should see the twisted mess of pillows, blankets and sheets when I get up in the morning. Believe me, it's a mess. This has become maddening and is totally affecting my waking hours.

For instance, I have forgotten underarm deodorant twice in the past week. It only becomes apparent to me when sometime later in the night, I wonder what that smell is only to discover it's me, or more specifically, my armpits. This doesn't happen when I'm at home--of course--I only notice when I'm away from my deodorant stick.

Last week while multitasking, I left home with my briefcase and saw the trash and recycling cans needed to be returned to the back yard. I set my briefcase down and moved the cans where they belonged and left for work. Lalalalalala. I got most of the way to my office when my son called to tell me I'd run over my briefcase with my employer owned laptop inside. In a panic, I raced home to find everything intact even though my rolling briefcase had tire prints and tattered fabric to show for my absent mindedness. What.An.Idiot!

These are just two of the forgetful issues I'm ascribing to my lack of sleep. There are more, like the night I left my work phone at home while working, and the mandatory work inservice I forgot to attend that has irritated the powers that be. If this is early onset dementia, I don't want to know. May it rob me of what I'm missing before I know what hit me. I prefer these symptoms to be signs of an irritating problem, but not a disease.

I've tried different methods and medications to help me sleep, but I only awaken feeling hungover and not at all rested. The worst of these drugs is benadryl. Blech. While it makes me sleep, I go through the entire next day in a fog. I don't want to feel like that, either. Knitting, while relaxing, is not something I can do when I'm tired at night. I end up making mistakes that have to be corrected in the light of day. I've eliminated caffeine after noon, so that's not the problem. I've watched boring television with a timer, but there is only so much of House Hunters International that a girl can take without going completely mad. For reading material, I stick to the dull at night. I don't need disturbing dreams added to whatever sleep I manage to squeeze into my life. My bed is not the problem. At least I don't think it is. It is a Tempurpedic, and they are known for being hot, but the kind of hot I get is the boiling from the inside out type: Hot flash hot.

I can deal with the stray whiskers I've sprouted, the sagging body parts and gray hair. How can I deal with the sleep disorder that appears to have accompanied the aging process? Tell me I've not squandered away all the restorative sleep of my youth with nary a thought to how precious it truly was.

Suggestions welcome. Please. I'll try anything.

Sincerely,

Desperate and Sleepless in Detroit

p.s. If you are still young or don't suffer sleep issues, consider yourself blessed and warned. Don't skimp on the sleep to get inconsequential chores done. You may never get it back.