Sleep deprivation = torture.

In the early days of grief, I commonly told people that I felt like I was being tortured. And I know that sounds very melodramatic. But truly, given the very minimal sleep I was getting, I don’t think I was exaggerating too much.

Everyone’s experience of grief is unique and specific to them, but for me, trying to fall asleep and stay asleep was the most challenging part of the first few months. I started to develop a complex around nighttime; I would be filled with a sense of dread as I saw the sun falling in the sky, twilight looming.

I think there were a few contributing factors that made sleep nearly impossible for me. First, it was really weird getting used to sleeping by myself after ten years of having Stephen peacefully snoozing beside me. Second, Stephen died at night while I was sleeping, so I felt a sense of guilt that maybe possibly if I had stayed awake, he would not have died. My exhausted, grief-stricken brain concluded that bad things happen if I let myself sleep.

And thus began a several-month journey delving into the inner workings of my mind and what I needed to get some healing rest. It was a trial-and-error science experiment of epic proportions! As I’ve said before, every person’s grief journey is unique, but if you are currently grieving and struggling with sleep, here are the observations of my experiment. I’ll start by highlighting some things that definitely did NOT help:

Other than the obviously unhelpful thought patterns mentioned above, I’d say my biggest mistake early on was hoping that I would find a prescription medication that would take all my problems away. I tried a few different pills and none of them cured my insomnia. I eventually realized that getting good sleep was going to take a lot more work than putting all my hopes in the pharmaceutical industry. So then I began trying anything and everything I could think of to get my brain to calm down. Here’s some of the best things I’ve found:

And every night is different! What worked one night didn’t necessarily work the next night. Over time, I amassed this list of a variety of different tactics, and I would cycle through them until I found one that worked for that particular night.

Occasionally, I would have a night where none of these things worked. So then I would just hop out of bed and start doing something productive that would make the following day a little less busy. For example, when I was preparing to sell the house, there were a few nights where I was lying awake, anxious about all the things I still needed to pack. So rather than lying there thinking about it, I just got out of bed and packed up the stuff! There’s no rules that say whether you should be packing at 3 am or 3 pm, so if I wasn’t sleeping, I might as well be getting something done. Sure, my dog thought it was a little odd sometimes that I was scurrying about the house in the wee hours of the morning, but he got used to it. The physical activity tired me out eventually and I’d get some sleep before the official day began, and I had a shorter to-do list as a result. Win-win!

I hope that the ideas shared here will be helpful to sleep-deprived widows (or anyone struggling with insomnia, for that matter.) The most important word of advice I can give is to be kind and gentle with yourself. Move through your days slowly, and do not hesitate to ask others for help. And when all else fails, I give you this great insight from W.C. Fields:

The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep.

_{(So helpful, I know.)}