The Sleep Doctor Told Me to Stay Up Late

I had a nice visit with my family last week, had a pleasant drive home, promptly got sick, and now I’m kinda recovering. Next month I get to do it all over again, because the major family-centered holidays are not distributed well. I’m still excited to see them again, though.

Today, I got the results of my sleep study, which basically said that I’m permanently jet-lagged because my internal clock disagrees with reality. It’s the downside of being a natural night-owl. I’ve always known that I sleep best around dawn, but I’ve never had a doctor straight up tell me to start going to bed later because it might improve the quality of my sleep, so that was refreshing and actually helpful. They’ve pretty much always insisted that, regardless of my inclinations, if  I practiced good enough sleep hygiene I should be able to sleep from 11pm to 7am and then wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but that was literally never going to happen for me and I finally have official confirmation of that. Fortunately, she also said that I didn’t show any signs of sleep apnea. That at least means I’m not having trouble breathing every night, just when other things make it worse.

So, I’m going to shift my bedtime to 2:30am, on doctor’s orders. I’m pretty fine with that, honestly. I work better at night, so having an hour or so to myself before bed might be really good for my writing. Plus, about half of my pets are nocturnal, so they can keep me company while I work.

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Mostly bare tree branches against a cloudy sky.

Writing days this past week: 2

3 thoughts on “The Sleep Doctor Told Me to Stay Up Late”

  1. Of course, I’m retired so I don’t have to worry, too much, about when I get up and when I go to bed. It was a massive problem for me when I was working. After having kids and absolutely having no option but to get up – when they were babies that could have been any time at all but usually right after I’d finally gotten to sleep (that was really, really, really hard) – later, to get them to school or classes or whatever – I just had to grit my teeth and do it. I survived but it was so, so painful to always feel so awful when my kids needed me to be there, feeling good, for them. I have no advice, wish I did. I think it’s a very personal, very individual thing.

    Liked by 1 person

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