Sweet Dreams

I need to sleep like I have a concussion. I don’t want an actual concussion, only the sleep. I’ve had eight major concussions in my life ( and a few minor ones), and I can say with the highest level of certainty that it is the pinnacle of slumber mastery. Even though everyone says not to fall asleep when you get a concussion, I would argue that it’s worth the risk.

Imagine being able to sleep for 15 hours straight without any sort of lingering drowsiness or hangover afterward. You stay awake for about an hour or two to eat a bowl of your favorite cereal, look outside the window with a new appreciation for life, and then you effortlessly slip back into a deep doze. Your pillow feels softer, the world has been muted, and your blanket doesn’t just cover you up, but it holds you like it’s afraid to lose you. I had a dream once while I was concussed that I was eating the most delicious piece of cheesecake ever. The crust was perfectly crispy, the filling was rich and buoyant in your mouth, and it was lather with a warm gooey blueberry compote. I ate it slowly, intentionally. As I savored each bite I eased my way into a hot tub with the same care and attention to detail in my movements then hollowed out a spot to sit and indulge in the rest of my desert. I should mention that the hot tub was also a giant cheesecake itself. I took glutinous spoonfuls from my plate as well as the tub and I knew that I was safe and I was happy. This is what concussion sleep is like.

All that being said, the question now is how can I attain that kind of sleep again? I feel like Belle’s father in the Beauty and the Beast when he tries to lead the village people to the Beast’s castle but he can’t remember the way. I’ve been there. I’ve seen it, but how do I get back without incurring some mild brain damage? It seems even further out of my reach since I became an insomniac this past year. I need to sleep.

I need to sleep like precious metals. Somewhere, right now, there’s a gold nugget resting snuggly underground, wrapped up by the earth. It sleeps heavily while buried. It sleeps easily because it knows it’s not likely to be disturbed even though millions of people are out there trying to find it and get their hands on it. It knows it’s safe.

Have you ever seen a panda sleep? I need to sleep like that.

If I could sleep well for a year I would promise to do good for the world in the extra three that it would bring me. If I could sleep well for a night, I might hold the elevator door for my neighbor. There are two elevators Olivia, you don’t have to run to catch mine every evening.

I need to sleep like a beauty and not be woken. If there is a fire, you may wake me with a kiss. However, give me that kiss only if you already tried to put the fire out and failed.

I promise to be disciplined to earn my sleep. I will turn off all screens an hour before bedtime. In that hour I will brush my teeth and empty my bladder. I will read my novel and let each page I turn bring me closer to resolution and rest. I will turn to my girlfriend and tell her I love her.

I need to sleep next to her. The little sleep that I do get comes from the comfort of knowing she’s there next to me. I should tell her that. When did I become a dependent sleeper? The temperature at night would be more tolerable without her, but you might as well take away the bed as well because I wouldn’t be comfortable. I can’t sleep without a bed and I need to sleep.

I need to sleep like a whale. It would be nice to float in my sleep and to be still like there was no storm thrashing over my head. I want my heart to beat twice every minute so disturbances are limited. I can’t have my heart nudging me awake every second. I need to sleep. I’ll probably die if it beats any slower though. In the water my blubber would lift me up in my sleep. In my bed, however, my blubber weighs down on me.

I need to sleep for my sanity. No you don’t. Yes, I do. No, you don’t. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

I want to feel tired when I go to sleep. I want to feel a lethargic drowse that only comes from expending the day's energy by working my whole body and mind. I need to pour myself and all that energy into the projects that I care about. I don’t want to go to bed at night thinking about the energy lost to the mundaily or the energy lost from simply existing. Those thoughts won’t go anywhere. They’ll spin around in my head for another hour which will keep me up.

I need to sleep without guilt. I deserve to sleep. I have goals. I have George Bailey sized goals. You know, bridges and skyscrapers kind of thing, metaphorically speaking of course. Sleep hygiene is one of those goals even though I resent it a little. Sleep steals time away from working on other goals. Sleep is the best player on the team though and probably deserves all the time it demands.

I need to sleep like I’m in the back seat.

I need to sleep like I’m in a painting at the museum. Safe.

I need more Zzzs and to stop asking Y.

I need to sleep outside. I need stars that sprinkle across a black canvas. Lay me down near the clouds to sleep by Crystal Lake. If I set up camp deep in the Uintas, the only faces I want to see are those of the mountains and the moon. I can hear the wild call for me. It almost sounds like sleep.

I plan to be an early riser this year. Without sleep I can’t rise. Sleep without rise? That’s how my grandparents sleep. I’m not ready to sleep like that.

I need my sleep to be repetitive. I need my sleep to be repetitive. I need my sleep to… Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

I’m tired. Bicycles are tired, but some of them manage to stand for years. They lose their air and shrink a bit, but they stand as tall as they can. Sometimes I feel just about as dusty and rusty as one of those bikes tucked away in the back of a garage. The tires are flat, but they are still round and are capable of rolling if you’re willing to push. I can roll. I can push. I can stand.

I need to sleep to let go of grudges.

I need to sleep so I can dream. When I dream I get answers to questions I didn’t know I was asking. Dreams give me clarity, but only in the most obscure way. Dreams give me cheesecake hot tubs. Dreams give me a chance to stretch my creativity muscles. I want to dream lucidly and take control of my surroundings. If I wake up in the middle of a dream, I will write it down in my dream journal right away. If I’m too tired to write it, then I will record it with my phone. Listening to myself stumble over words in a groggy state is usually more entertaining than reading them anyway.

I need to sweep. I need to declutter my room, my workspace, and my mind. Sleep is the natural mindsweeper. When you go to sleep your brain is essentially taking a bath and all the grime and sludge that accumulated throughout a day of doom scrolling and containing your desire to sceam. During the day, that grime acts like a wall separating the different parts of the brain, which precludes any kind of conversation. At night, the brain gets flooded with a sudzy solution that dissolves those walls and allows all the parts of your brain to talk to each other and come up with solutions.

My sleep wants and needs may seem trivial, but these are my demands and I stand by them. I don’t only want this for myself, but for everyone as well. Any entity capable of sleeping should do it and not skimp. I need to have more dreams about cheesecake. We all need to have those dreams. Sweet dreams. I refuse to believe that there would be as many problems in the world today as there are if everyone was able to sleep like they had a concussion. We snap at each other when we don’t sleep. We misunderstand or misinterpret the actions and words of others which creates confusion. We need to sleep. We need to sleep to function. We need to sleep in order to grow. If we all slept better we might have the energy to try improving ourselves and the world that surrounds us everyday. I need to sleep as if I knew everyone in the world was sleeping too. Safe.

So tonight when you go to bed, take a generous helping of sleepy sand, but try not to spill any on your cake.