A Terrifying Bout of Insomnia

I saw two dead bodies in the same week, and I stopped sleeping.

The first body was my father-in-law, at his viewing. He looked natural, as if peacefully asleep. But his total stillness betrayed this illusion.

My uncle died a week later, at an assisted living facility in Concord. He’d been estranged from our family for more than twenty years, but he’d reached out recently, and we were all getting to know each other again. He’d been ill for a long time, with COPD, but that week he had a stroke, and died a few days later. The morning he died, my mom and I drove to Concord, and waited in his room for the mortician. My uncle was emaciated, and pale, and obviously dead, but still warm. I helped move his body from his bed to the gurney. He weighed almost nothing.

Suddenly there was a ton to do. While Kia started dealing with her father’s affairs, my mother and I began the task of emptying out my Uncle Bill’s room. He’d been a sound engineer, and his small room was packed with gear. There were oscillators, voltage meters, EQ modules, microphones, and dozens of boxes I could not identify.

I took a few of the more valuable items, then called Al Lasher’s electronics in Berkeley. I texted Bob Lasher a few pictures, and told him he was welcome to come take whatever he could use. I probably could have made thousands of dollars selling the stuff on eBay, but I had no desire to do so, nor anywhere to store the stuff. Heroically, Bob and his crew took most of my uncle’s gear that night. I was relieved knowing that my uncle’s accumulated collection would not go to waste. And for myself, I had a giant metal suitcase full of vintage Neumann microphones.

But the stress of the two deaths took its toll. I started waking up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding. If I was able to fall back asleep, it was only after hours of lying awake, and then only a light sleep for an hour or two. A few nights I felt like I didn’t sleep at all. But then I would remember a few dream fragments. I was sleeping a little here and there, dozing off, but failing to fall into a deep slumber. I stared into the darkness for hours on end, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. I moved from my bed to the couch and back, and even spent one fitful night trying to sleep on the floor of my studio. Even with earplugs in, the slightest noise would wake me up.

I was a wreck, and terrified that I’d lost my ability to sleep. I went to a naturopath in Oakland. She asked me tons of questions about my health, and designed a whole program for me. Could this get me back on track? I was already off caffeine and alcohol, and eating well, and exercising, but maybe her recommendations could help me.

I looked at the expensive supplements she’d prescribed through her naturopathic “pharmacy.” I looked up the individual ingredients of “Kavinace Ultra PM” (one of the supplements she’d prescribed). One of them was phenibut, a drug the Russians designed to help cosmonauts sleep in space. It’s incredibly addictive. This is what phenibut withdrawal is like. I wrote back to her and said I didn’t want to take phenibut because it’s habit forming. She said none of her clients have had that problem. Maybe they’re still taking it?

I purchased a large number of herbal, amino acid, and vitamin/mineral sleep supplements, and tried them in various combinations. 5HTP helped me sleep a little, but triggered asthma symptoms, and gave me nightmares. So did large doses of melatonin, and l-tryptophan (which has many toxic metabolites). Chamomile and valerian made me feel drowsy, but didn’t help me sleep. I tried ashgawandha, to help reduce my cortisol levels, but it didn’t seem to do anything. Magnesium seemed to help, but I couldn’t tolerate the large doses recommended for improving sleep, which can have a strong laxative effect.

I started to fear sleep. As soon as I lay down in bed, I got nervous about how the night would go. I dreaded yet another restless, stressful night, followed by another numb, “wired-but-tired” day.

I read obsessively about insomnia, and how some people had cured theirs, and about some who hadn’t, who’d gone decades without a good night’s sleep. I read about an extremely rare disease, where people slowly lose the ability to sleep altogether, and then hallucinate for months, and then die.

I called a friend who’d mentioned he’d struggled with insomnia. He said it went away eventually, and that wearing a sleep mask and earplugs had helped. And sometimes he’d taken Tylenol PM, just to konk out. His insomnia, which had seemed all-consuming when he’d been going through it, had faded to a distant memory. That was reassuring.

I ordered more supplements. I read about sleep restriction therapy. With sleep restriction, you stay up all night the first night, then limit your time allowed in bed to the amount you’ve been sleeping on average. So if you’ve been getting four hours of sleep a night, you’re only allowed to stay in bed from 3am to 7am (or whatever your designated wake time is).

I stayed up as late as I could. I read until my eyes drooped, and my neck started jerking as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Having barely slept the night before, I only made it to midnight. But I slept okay that night. And I lost my fear of going to bed. So even partial sleep restriction helped me. If your sleep drive increases enough, your bed calls to you, no matter how much you’ve struggled with going to sleep and staying asleep.

I read my own blog posts about sleep. I’d never suffered true insomnia until now, but I took my own advice. Don’t fight your sleeplessness. Embrace quiet wakefulness, which can still be restorative. And dim the lights in the evening, or go by candlelight alone.

I called my friend Dan Pardi, who’s a sleep scientist. After patiently listening to my troubles, he told me I had the most common form of insomnia, which follows a traumatic event. He suggested I probably had a minor form of PTSD. I agreed–that’s what it felt like! I told him about the new supplements I’d ordered. He approved, and offered additional advice. He suggested that I shouldn’t be afraid of using drugs to reset my sleep patterns. Insomnia itself can be habit-forming, and sometimes you need some chemical help to break the cycle. Dan pointed out that rotating various sleep drugs (that work on various sleep subsystems in the brain), and not using them every night, will greatly lessen the risk of dependence. But he said don’t take phenibut–haven’t you read the horror stories on reddit?

A few nights ago, I did the following:

1. Took the dog for a walk first thing in the morning, to get some morning light and reinforce a healthy circadian rhythm.
2. Took off my shirt in the sun for about half an hour, to boost my nitric oxide levels. A lack of nitric oxide in the brain can prevent sleep.
3. Worked out with heavy weights, to exhaust myself physically.
4. Took a hot bath with 2 cups of Epsom salts (magnesium sulfate, which according to bodybuilder Thomas DeLauer, can actually raise serum magnesium levels). Magnesium improves several sleep parameters.
5. Dimmed all the lights early in the evening, and turned off the wi-fi router (EMFs may reduce melatonin production in the brain).
6. Took the following supplements around 10pm:
   – 750mcg melatonin
   – 100mg l-theanine
   – 500mg l-ornithine
   – 100mg magnesium taurate
   – 100mg niacinamide
   With melatonin, less is more. L-orithine has been shown to reduce stress and improve sleep quality. L-Theanine may be helpful in regulating gene expression in the PTSD brain. Niacinamide may reduce cortisol and boost GABA. Magnesium taurate combines magnesium with taurine. Taurine acts on the GABA receptors in the thalamus.
7. I focused on mental imagery and bodily sensations instead of words in my head (except for simple, relaxing affirmations, like “You’re safe now,” or “It’s okay to relax.”) I tried to focus on feelings of gratitude, acceptance, and surrender.

That night, I slept incredibly deeply, 7.5 hours in total, only waking up briefly once around 5am.

The past three out of four nights, applying some or all of the above, I’ve slept pretty well.

I feel calmer, and I’m even getting a little sleepy during the day (which didn’t happen for weeks–I felt exhausted and drained but not sleepy).

I know I still have a big sleep debt to pay, but my physiology is calming down. And I feel like I have the tools to manage my sleep. Knock on wood, but I feel as if the worst is over, and I’m coming out the other side.

I wouldn’t wish insomnia on anybody. It’s a terrible feeling, to not be able to do something that should come so naturally.

Going forward, I’m going to continue experimenting. I want to see if I can sleep more deeply and more efficiently than what I’d previously considered to be “normal.” I’ll taper off my supplements eventually, but I’m going to continue with the increased morning light exposure, sun-on-skin exposure, dimming lights in the evening, Epsom salt baths, and turning off the wi-fi router at night.

Feel free to share your own sleep experiences below, including any tips.