Sleep, oh blessed sleep. This dam nervous system that can’t even take a disruption in routine kept sleep at bay. My son, his wife and their angel of a baby had arrived from Boston. After a happy evening of conversation and joyful moments with our precious grand-daughter, my usual time for bed passed by. Trouble for me was brewing. Keeping to routine is crucial to my ability to sleep.
Everyone retired at 11 pm. Hoping for sleep, none came. Donning my bathrobe with resignation, downing a double dose of a sleep aid, and flipping on the TV, it wasn’t until 2 am that sleep came.
Caring for myself means keeping a routine. Tonight my cat and I will need to say our good-nights at 9, watch a show in bed, and by 10 sleep should come.
A nervous system shot by PTSD needs routine. None of the others had trouble falling asleep, even the baby. My husband’s even breathing within minutes of lying down next me made me envious.