Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I lie very still and silently recite Neruda’s Oda a la Alcochofa. Um, yeah, that’s a poem, in Spanish, about an artichoke.
“Okay, go.”
“What?”
“Start reciting. I wanna hear it.”
“No way. I’ll fall asleep right here on the sidewalk and then we’ll miss the movie.”
As we were leaving dinner the other night, I shared my magic sleep secret with G. And obviously, being that this is just one of the many things about my inner-workings that make me a bit of a weirdo, he wasn’t at all fazed. Just offered me some Ambien and pouted over being forced to go home and google Neruda. Anyway, I can’t really explain it, except to say that it’s got something to do with the meter of the poem and how reciting it makes me breathe differently and listen to the rhythm of blood pumping behind my ears. Which is all very hypnotic and sleep inducing.
Except when it’s not.
Friday night, I got home around 2AM, and having just had my ass handed to me in a three-hour game of Trivial Pursuit, I tumbled into bed, beaten, shamed and exhausted. Then I lay there. Not sleeping. For an hour and forty minutes. I tried Neruda, then that relaxation game where you ask each of your two-thousand parts – starting with the toes – to pretty please, go to sleep. You should know this technique is complete bullshit. It’s like telling a slumber party full of caffeinated seven-year-old girls to quiet down – the attention only makes matters worse.
Eventually, I got so desperate, I decided to play an imagination game with myself. So I laid there, very still, and pictured, detail by detail, all the wacky lyrics from Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I think I got as far as newspaper taxis and I was out cold. It was nothing short of a sleep miracle.
Only, I haven’t had a remotely sensible dream since.
Last night, it was baskets and baskets full of hungry baby raccoons. Cute, right? Totally. Except some of them had puppy heads. With really big eyes (which, thankfully weren’t kaleidoscope-ish at all). And I woke up worried about bottle feeding varmints.
I’m afraid if this keeps up, I’m going to have to cave to G’s trade demands, suck it up, and recite my little poem for a couple of Ambien.
I always said that whole imagining your various body parts were falling asleep was aload of bunk! Ambien, however, is a wonderful thing
I agree, Ambien is the best. Be sure to be completely ready to get in the bed, it works very quickly. I have awakened with the lights on and half way propped up on my pillows with a magazine across my face.
thats funny, im having one of those nights tonight….
so is Dream Time temple balm…
It’s a pretty good trade, too. The first one is even free. The rest cost you.
Ever try doing math in your head to get to sleep? That knocks me right out.
Never tried the body-parts thing. I normally count backwards from 1000. Never got to 0, so it works
I make alphabet lists.
Shades of ivory: Abalone, Bisque, Cream.
Produce: Artichokes, Bananas, Cucumbers.
Movies, singers, authors, kinds of soup. Surprisingly, it’s D and H that usually trip me. I also take melatonin sometimes. Safe, over the counter, inexpensive, moderately effective.
Sounds like the sure-fire sleep aid isn’t readily available. Have you tried Gin and Juice?
I’ve found that counting sheep doesn’t work either. In my mind they are cartoonish and always jumping over a fence, right to left. They have never made me fall asleep though.
My mother recites the names of her 7 siblings and their children, with middle names. If she still can’t sleep, she tries to remember their birthdays. I find the names works for me – in order of age, but if I start thinking about birthdays, I wake up more, because I’m thinking too hard. It’s probably the same rhythmical thing as your poem.
If you weren’t waking up worried, I’d say there was no problem with acid-dreams. I hope you manage a worry-less sleep tonight!
Can your puppy-headed racoons visit my puppy-headed spider one day? HA are we creepy or what?
What I wouldn’t have given last night for an Ambien…
When I can’t sleep I try to name celebrities. If you start with, say, Michael Douglas, since his last name ends with D, you then have to name someone whose first name starts with D, like Donald Trump. Then someone who starts with T…
It always works for me.
Raccoon puree!
Seriously (and I’ll frame this in the hypothetical to conform to the Advice-Free Zone rules)? Were I having such troubles, I would humble myself as described, were such humbling the only way to get Ambien.
My doctor put me on it three weeks ago — the first sleep aid I’ve taken in my life (which is, shall we say, rather longer than yours). Works, if you’ll pardon the pun, like a dream, w/no discernable side effects.
Sleep well!
Also? Brilliant post headline!
I mentally list all of the state capitols, in alphabetical order. By the time I hit R, I’m usually out cold.
Wow–I’ve had some trouble sleeping in the past few months, but you are way more creative in your methods than I’ve ever been! Usually, I try to imagine I’m Elizabeth in the BBC/A&E Pride and Prejudice miniseries, and that means Colin Firth’s Darcy is mine all mine.
But I think your methods might be much more soporific!
I thought I was the only one who resorted to weird tactics to get to sleep. I’ve been known to recite Portuguese poems – but not any one in particular. Also trying to remember all the words to Billy Joel’s “we didn’t start the fire” sometimes does the trick. By thalidimide I’m usually out.
I-pod. I-pod is the secret to sleep, and that’s coming from a life-long insomniac. I like Eric Satie – Gymnopedie, which is beautiful and restful. I created a list for sleeping tunes. I like Glinka and Schubert, but you have to watch for anything with a loud bit. Also audiobooks, particularly those read by a sexy voice. Leads to nice dreams, none of which involve puppy-headed raccoons. I have my own faves but I leave you to explore that on your own if you’re interested! The secret is to ignore the meaning of the words and let it lull you. It’s embarrassingly comforting, like being read to sleep. Highly recommend it.
I go through the alphabet. I think of a subject such as food, male/female names, cities, etc…and try to name one that begins with each letter in the alphabet.
It works. I need to come up with new subjects.
I know someone who when they can’t sleep they imagine the are a mermaid and have to stay as still as absolutely possible or else they will fall out of the “sea” and “die”. Oh how random.
I’m also an alphabet song kinda gal. With the two raving lunatic small people around here, though, I don’t have much trouble collapsing at the end of the day.
When I can’t sleep I imagine Daniel Craig naked in my bed. It doesn’t help me sleep but who wants to sleep with him next to you?
My secret recipe for falling asleep: 1 Xanax + 2 glasses of wine. You will be too asleep to remember dreaming, and if you do dream it’s nothing but rainbows, puppies, and bottles of prescription pills dancing happily in a field of daisies.
Ahhhummmmm…..Self Stimulation always, always works and if you are lucky enough to have a partner, well by all means…
The acceptance of the pure madness surrounding sleep and dreams is one of the best parts of human nature. As a frequent insomniac, I’m intrigued by the number of people who use alphabet tricks to help them. The worst method I ever tried was picturing someone sleeping calmly in bed. No matter what I did, that little man in my mind always ended up jumping out of bed and running around the room!
Here’s to sweet Ambien dreams in your future.