The subtitle should actually read, “This is what hasn’t helped.”
Because for the last four decades, I’ve tried everything to sleep better, and only a handful of adjustments have added continuity and stability to my sleep quality.
The more I talk about this subject, I realize that I’m not alone. Many of you (1 out of 3) have some type of sleep disorder. Maybe it’s chronic insomnia, perhaps it’s trouble falling asleep. My problem is that I can’t stay asleep. I like to say that I nap, not sleep, because I’ll doze off for 2-3 hours at a time throughout the evening, and be wide awake for most of the long gaps. Some nights, I’ll only get 1-2 hours in. When people ask me where I find the time to get work done, or how I read so many books, now you know my dirty little secret (I’m in good company. Celebrated writers from Shakespeare to Haruki Murakami credit that 4am magic hour as the sweet spot for their best work).
I’ve been like this my entire life. As far back as I can remember, my family and I all shared this problem. I’d wake up at 3am and peer down the hallway. My dad would be reading in his office, my brothers’ lamps would be on, the light spilling out onto the carpet from under the doorways. By middle school, teachers were writing notes to my parents, concerned that I seemed groggy in class. By high school, I gave up on my bed. Instead, I migrated between different couches like a sleep nomad, soaking up the cool fabric or soft leather for an extra twenty minutes of slumber.
As with many corporeal complications, I’ve assumed there’s a strong genetic link to poor sleep. I also believe that we’re wired to different circadian clocks. I feel much more myself as a night owl. In another social universe, I’d sleep when the sun rises and start my mornings at lunchtime (hard to do when you’re running a business and have children). The other thing that works against me is that I suffer from ADHD and other disorders that are probably more causative than correlative with sleeplessness. It’s a chicken and egg conundrum. Lack of sleep leads to a hyperactive brain and deeper mood swings. A restless mind also foils peaceful sleep.
(The older I’ve gotten, I’ve also noticed that my sleep disorder has seasons. Everything gets worse in the last quarter of the year. I have no idea why. My stress level and workloads are consistent; there are no other significant lifestyle changes. There is probably a connection to sunlight exposure and increased darkness, but regardless, my sleep sucks in the first half of the year too).
Whenever I tell people I don’t sleep much, they respond the same way. “Oh no, that’s really bad for you.”
Yeah, I know. A history of poor sleep can lead to higher risks of dementia, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, obesity, certain cancers, anxiety and depression. I understand this very acutely. Trust me, I’m not trying to stay awake, folks. I would give up most everything to regularly experience 8 hours of unbroken sleep. I’ve never felt it in my life. If you have the ability to do so, consider it a superpower.
The second thing people say is, “Have you tried…(fill in the blank)?”
(And, if you suffer from sleeplessness and haven’t done some of these, give ‘em a try!)
As for me, Yes. I’ve done it all. Nothing’s helped.
Melatonin.
Magnesium.
Marijuana.
Ashwagnadha.
L-theanine.
Zzzquil.
Even a heavy duty Xanax can’t keep me down.
When it comes to pills and supplements, I still get bad sleep but now it’s compounded with a nasty hangover.
I work out rigorously daily. I’ve tried exercising in the morning and in the evenings. Doesn’t matter.
I practice meditation and breathing techniques.
I stick to a routine bedtime (11-11:30pm) and don’t drink a lot of water after dinner.
I have a cool bed. I invested in an Eight Sleep smart mattress and use the app to monitor my unconscious levels.
I’ve also abstained from it all.
I don’t drink caffeine (really). I’ve reduced screen time or cut it out completely for hours before bed (there goes the blue light theory). I rarely drink alcohol.
I’ve read Why We Sleep. I’ve also read Sleep Revolution by Arianna Huffington (a book that reiterates how bad sleeplessness can be for you, with little useful guidance on how to fix the problem). I’ve listened to all the Andrew Huberman sleep tips (sun-staring, etc.). And I’ve even paid for sleep studies, overnight hospital stays with nodes and all. Wanna know what the last doctor’s diagnosis was?
“I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never seen this before. It’s like you’re a narcoleptic, except narcoleptics can sleep at night.”
I haven’t given up hope, but I’ve accepted that there is no “cure” for someone in my condition. However, I’ve incorporated some helpful practices that have alleviated the rougher patches. They are nowhere near fool-proof, and to be honest, they only work occasionally. But,… it’s something.
Earplugs
I’ve worn earplugs to bed every night of my life since I was a teenager. There are different NRR (Noise Reduction Ratings), but I don’t think it matters. If you’re a sensitive sleeper like me, you can always kinda hear ambient noise, even if the NRR is in the mid-30s. So, earplugs are more of a psychological reassurance. Better sleep is about routines, and so when the earplugs go in, I’m telling my brain, “It’s time to calm down.”
Blackout
The darker you can make your bedroom, the better. I paid for blackout shades, but traces of sunlight still creep in, and I’ve noticed that I sleep longer in hotels that are furnished with industrial-power curtains. Even the glow of a digital clock or a computer monitor left on in the corner can disrupt sleep quality. Unplug them. I’m serious!
Eyemask
That’s why I add an eyemask! The single most beneficial sleep aid I’ve added to my routine as an adult hasn’t been a pill or a magic powder. It’s this $20 silk mask from Amazon, that Tim Ferriss recommended in his sleep protocol a decade ago. Again, part of the mask’s benefits feel placebo or psychological, but the pressure of the cool fabric against your eyes and around your ears signals soothingness to the anxious mind.
4-7-8
Years ago, a friend suggested I try the 4-7-8 pranayama breathing method and in recent times, I’ve seen it go viral — not just for helping people fall asleep but for reducing stress and clearer mental health. Essentially, you inhale through your nose for a count of 4. Then, you hold your breath for 7 seconds. And then you slowly draw out an exhale (audibly) for 8 seconds. People who espouse the 4-7-8 technique swear you’ll fall asleep before completing 3 cycles of this exercise. It used to be somewhat effective for me, but it lost its power over the years. If anything, what I anecdotally believe is that it helps with taking your thoughts off of sleep pressures. That always helps.
Telling your body to go to sleep. In stages.
Not sure how to better word that. My friend Patrick once told me he calms his mind by telling his toes to sleep, then working his way slowly up his ankles, then his legs, and so on. He said he rarely gets above the waist before he’s knocked out. It’s never worked well for me. But then, over the holidays, another friend shared that she does it in reverse. She puts the top of her head to rest first, then down her scalp, her temples, eyes, nose, etc. Guess what? This one has been working for me more often than not! Is this the remedy I’ve been searching for? Try it and let me know if it works for you.
Diet
I love to eat. I enjoy spicy foods that make my stomach roil. I consume rich foods with lots of flavor, fat, and oils. What’s more, I like to eat a LOT of it. If there’s anything I’m sure of when it comes to sleep quality, it’s that a bloated stomach leads to lousy restfulness. Whenever I eat tame foods in moderate portions, I sleep through the night much better. (Unfortunately for me, I’m not giving up my voracious eating habits anytime soon. So, screw you, Sleep!)
Getting up and Moving
You can toss and turn in your bed all night. You may even find yourself becoming, alarmingly, more awake! But, have you ever noticed that if you walk around, move to a different room, or even sit up in bed, that you’ll start yawning? The change of environment and the repositioning of your physical body reorients how your brain thinks about sleep. At the least, I sit up in bed and read a physical book (not my phone or e-book) using this book light on the lowest, amber setting. After about an hour or so, my mind chills out and I get drowsy again. If that doesn’t help, then I try to sleep on a couch in a different room.
That Extra Hour
Does this (above) happen to you? This is a daily (or nightly?) occurrence for me. But studies have shown that if you can dive back into one powerful hour of sleep (in this guy’s case, from 6am-7am), it can make your entire day. My wife tells me I snore like a wart hog and I’m out to the world between this 6am-7am window, but just 60 minutes of being knocked out cold does more for me than 7 hours of broken, frustrated sleep.
THE ONLY GUARANTEED ANSWER
Having said all that, here’s the only successful solution that I’ve found, after a lifetime of wrestling with this affliction. I’ve learned to embrace it. Instead of complaining about it during the days or writhing in anxiety throughout the nights, I’ve reframed sleeplessness as a positive attribute.
In ways, lack of sleep has benefited me. When my children were born, I didn’t have as tough of a time with their unpredictable sleep patterns because I already sleep like a newborn, collicky baby. I’m immune to jetlag, because I’m just always, permanently jetlagged. And while others are handcuffed to coffee or energy drinks to sustain, my body and brain have learned to overcompensate in low sleep, which accounts for my manic energy bursts and persistent drive. Friends joke, “Imagine what you’d be able to accomplish if you slept well.” But I actually believe that it’d be the other way around. I’d be less creative, less productive, and have lower ambition.
The truth is that the 7/8-hour sleep recommendation is largely a myth, as explained in Dr. Jen Gunter’s TED video below. It’s driven our culture to orthosomnia, an unhealthy obsession with perfecting our sleep and paying a big industry to resolve our perceived problems. It’s forced us all into a monolith. Meanwhile, required sleep is different for each individual. It’s a range:
I wish I could sleep better. It would feel great. But I also wish I could hit a ball like Shohei and had the skin of a K-pop idol. We all have our Achilles heel, but mine wakes me up to write novels and fuels my frenetic energy to work on multiple projects. But best of all, my sleep disorder forces me to think deeply and thoughtfully about a spectrum of things in the quiet solitude of night. Without anyone to answer to. Without a stimulating, alive world to distract me. Sometimes, I think my mind keeps me up because I don’t give it enough time to breathe during the days. It’s our quality time together, to debate new beliefs and dissect ideas, to allow information to uncoil. And to let my dreams wander. Even if I’m awake for them.
For my paid subscribers, some more resources below: