The Overwhelming Freedom of No Alarms, No Schedules, and My Resolution to Enjoy It

We all know it, and most of us hate it. Even if we escape it as children, eventually we grow up,\and have to succumb to it. That blaring, garish, screaming drill sergeant that sits next to our beds. Some call it an alarm clock. I call it heinous, a rude assault on all that is good in this life.

Three years ago I escaped it, at least the need of it. I didn’t have to work anymore. I wasn’t chained to a desk, and a schedule with a start time determined by someone else. If I needed to be somewhere, I could choose a time and day that was appealing to my internal schedule, my own unique body rhythm.

Yet, that little box that was horribly loud, and annoyingly bright in the middle of the night, maintained a cruel hold over me. It had powers beyond being able to violently shock me out of sleep, cause headaches, and bad moods. Even though I no longer had to use it, I have never been able to escape the guilt, or the compulsion that I SHOULD be using it.

The inability to break free from the imaginary expectations of the rectangular box on my nightstand is exhausting enough. Heap onto that the shame of being completely ineffective at developing a self made, self managed schedule, or anything that even resembles one, and you will find me underneath all the unnecessary self loathing.

I have always liked sleep, lots of sleep. It’s actually more than a want, it’s a need. My body needs more than most. The headaches and bad moods I suffered from, that were caused by the blaring early morning intrusions, were made that much worse by my need for excessive sleep. Never have I been an early riser. Never have I been one of those unicorns. Those rare, and in my opinion, imaginary people who can not only survive, but actually accomplish things on four to five hours of sleep. Even seven or eight hours wasn’t enough. If I let myself sleep long enough to make my body happy, to actually feel rested, I need to sleep close to ten hours a night. Which, I now can do almost every single day. Since I am also a bit of a night owl, and then like to read once I’m in bed, my bedtime hovers around the midnight hour. Which is OK. My time is completely my own.

So, while I can easily get the amount of sleep I need, no matter what time I go to bed, and I no longer endure alarm clock hangovers, I still suffer. When I wake up at ten in the morning, I rarely feel like I deserve that absolutely luxurious coffee hour. It’s nearly impossible to fully enjoy that I can wake up whenever I want, nor, do whatever I want.

I realize that I am complaining about a situation that most would be to happy to have. While I am rationally aware of that, that makes it even harder. I am more than grateful that I have this freedom. The rarity, and the value of it doesn’t escape me. Yet, knowing all these things does very little to alleviate the guilt, and the feeling of being inert. It does nothing to keep me from falling into a natural state of stagnancy. If a sailboat isn’t compelled to move by the wind it just bobs on the waves. If a car doesn’t have an engine to force it’s wheels to turn, and push, or pull it forward, it stays parked. I no longer have wind or an engine, I no longer have a place to be, at a designated hour, at which I must spend a contracted amount of time. So, I don’t move.

Not everyone would want that, the lack of demand, some thrive on that routine. However, having the choice, the ability to choose IF I want a routine is an enormous benefit to me. I have several auto-immune diseases. What they are don’t matter. Any auto-immune means unplanned relapses. It means being sick when you can’t be sick because there is too much to do. It means spending days laying on the couch, or in bed, giving your body time to recover so you can go on about your regular, daily life, as best you can. If you have to be at work, obviously a relapse isn’t convenient nor is it conducive to remaining employed.

Having had the past few years to allow my body all the rest it needs, either from sleeping in late, or being able to design when and where I will spend my time, has been nothing less than a gift.

Still, knowing that my new reality without alarm clocks, without set schedules, has been more beneficial than medications or doctors visits, I haven’t been able to move past the feeling that I should be doing something, anything. I haven’t been able to move past the guilt telling me I should be adhering to a schedule, including getting up at a time that isn’t reserved for teenagers. I won’t be reaping all the benefits of my situation until I also can accept it. Until I accept fully and completely, and learn to feel joy from the freedom I have, instead of guilt. Until then, I won’t heal to the best of my bodies ability.

I don’t subscribe to resolutions. Whether true or not, to me the word resolution implies a strict, no deviance allowed, protocol of change. While I believe in change, no one can deny it’s hard. Very few people will be successful without taking change, and breaking it down into pieces, or steps. Change takes momentum and that sometimes needs to gather, it needs to build. When changing, you need to be allowed to alter it, to redesign it, even to step back from it. Resolution doesn’t seem to encompass those needs.

So while I don’t believe in resolutions, I do believe in change. I believe in commitment, and I believe in learning to make better choices. These things all take time, and actively redirecting yourself over, and over again. This year my commitment to myself is to change my mindset. That won’t happen by making a resolution. It will happen by learning. Learning that in order for me to thrive in my current reality, I must let go. I have to choose to let go of everything I was previously programmed, to do, and to accept. Alarm clocks and schedules were my normal, and for most of society they still are. They are still what starts a day and determines a day, they are still what’s expected. That isn’t my day, my normal anymore. I just need to unlearn basically everything I was told about how a person lives a responsible, grown up, productive life.

Responsibility and productivity aren’t determined by the hour on a clock. Spending eight hours at a job five days a week doesn’t make me productive, or responsible either. It gives me more time to be that much better at the things I do take care of, or the endeavors I attempt. This year I commit to reminding myself of this every time the shame starts to creep in. This year I will value my ability to spend my time how I please, or even how I need to. If I’m not feeling well, I can do what I need versus what is expected.

This year I commit to being fully well. My body has not felt this healthy since 2012, and this year I will choose to change my pre-programmed expectations so that my mind is as happy, and healthy, as my physical body. I am a productive and responsible human and I will tell myself that regardless of what time I get up, or what I do, or don’t do every day.

Whatever time I wake up, I commit to spending an extra five minutes enjoying the warmth of my blankets, the softness of my pillows, and the potential the day holds. I will dwell on the possibility, not on the time. Every morning I will force myself to remember the headaches, and the perpetual feeling of lethargy, and then say a grateful thank you that when I stand up, it will be with a feeling of wellness, and a rested body.

My wellness commitment is to allow myself to realize that health usually comes because you have made better choices. Your health improves when you choose vegetables over candy. It improves when you choose exercise over the couch. My health improves when I give my body what it needs versus what someone else expects. It will improve further when I no longer feel bad about needing a life different from the person next to me. This year I commit to lots of sleep, late wake ups, freedom from schedules, and all the joy that life provides.