Yes, I really love my sleep. I recently heard the term ‘bedgasm’ and almost experienced one just thinking about it. It’s the unmistakable sigh of a human being knowing they are mere moments
from Morpheus’ divine undertaking. ‘I don’t need a few extra hour’s kip’ said no adult human, ever.
But it’s the whole ritual that must be fully appreciated. The turning off of the lights in the home, one by one. All the lights bar one of course, that glorious little lamp by your bedside! A few final thoughts maybe of did I turn off the oven? Then the soft throne of the bed itself. The weight of the duvet as it settles on your weary and grateful frame. I conjecture we could all recognise our own duvet from a pile of a thousand just due to the feeling of its weight as we pull back its edge. Oh take us there now!
The best though is the ‘early event’ surprise. It’s the sudden endorphin-fuelled feeling you get when you realise it’s an early evening event, or even a late afternoon one (the joy!) and you’re going to be home before originally planned, meaning you can start the ritual even earlier. The priceless opportunity to gain more shut-eye.
When I had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) post my time on the trading floor, all I could do was sleep. CFS demanded 20 hours of sleep from me per day, every day, for a period of over 18 months. People don’t believe me when I say that. 20 hours. Sounds glorious to some!
Perhaps it was in some ways since my body obviously needed to heal. But when it’s not a choice, it’s frustrating and worrying. After all, isn’t the ideal scenario that we could choose to sleep more, or less, as we please? Not the complete sense of powerlessness we feel when energy is temporary or sleep is evading us. During that time, all I wanted to do was to carry on life as normal; normal at the time being what I now recognise as hyperactivity. I was always busy, always going from one thing to the next at breakneck speed. Now I was having to count energy ‘tokens’ each day; how many I had and how many could be spent on a particular task, even one as small as brushing my teeth.
