Writings
A Slave to the Clock » Sat, Jun 18th 2005 9:31 pm
After having looked forward to seeing “The Longest Yard” at an old-school drive-in theatre all day, it was brought to my attention that we’d be seeing two movies, beginning at “dusk” (so 9:02 PM, but probably more like 8 or 8:30). Upon learning this, I withdrew myself from the evening.
Why? Because for some reason—which almost six years of self-evaluation have yet to reveal—I have some fear of the late hours. I’m using this post to document my pondering of the reason(s) for my madness. Let me know of any typos, as I plan on just writing and posting immediately.
I think that a significant factor these days is my fear of getting another migraine. I’ve stuck to a relatively strict routine of waking up at around 6:30 AM and going to bed at around 10:30 AM. I’m afraid that if I force my brain to stay awake for two or three or more hours than it’s accustomed to, it’s going to freak out and cause me un-Godly pain for five hours the next day. Despite having stayed out until midnight in the recent past, my fear persists.
When I was in the 3rd grade, I think my bedtime was still 7:30 PM. I can remember lying in my bed while the sun leaked through the cracks in my closed blinds. I can remember hearing the other kids playing while I was supposed to be sleeping. I remember resenting my parents for having forced that bedtime upon me for so long.
Eventually my bedtime got pushed slowly to 8:00, but this wasn’t formally agreed to by my parents; it was a result of my relentless complaints that just slowly led to my bedtime being slowly pushed toward 8 o’clock. This may be a contributing factor to my phobia (if this is in fact a phobia) because up until about the 11th grade, my bed time was 9:30 PM. This time wasn’t enforced by anyone (obviously) but I still felt anxious if I was awake past my bedtime. This anxiety would escalate to what could be safely identified as ‘panic’. I’d have to lie back, shut my eyes, and just think. I can remember looking at my clock as its LEDs morphed into “11:00” and the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach like I would be doomed to live in my awakened state forever and the sun would never rise.
My 7:30 bedtime is almost surely to blame for my “early bird” status. I used to wake up as early as four (so I got a good nine hours of sleep, at least) and see my Dad off to work. Today, little has changed. I wake up between six and seven with a good seven or eight hours of sleep. I hop in my chair and I start the day. But I don’t watch the sunrise. I don’t go for early-morning jogs when the streets are deserted and the sky is purple. I don’t think I’m actually a morning person. So why get up so early? Maybe I don’t like the night.
Now that I think about it, I really don’t like the night. There’s nothing on TV, my foreign friends are all asleep, and my local friends are either asleep or out partying (something I don’t do much of as a result of this “phobia” and other reasons I may explain in the future). The world as I know it has stopped. It’s too late—and I’m too tired—to begin anything new, and all that’s left is to lie in bed and wait for sleep. In fact, while I’m lying there I’m usually thinking about its probable likeness to death. Here I am at the end of my day with no time left to get anything done, and at some point in the near future, at a time nobody is ever aware of, my brain will gear down. Have you ever tried to catch yourself falling asleep? I have. When I do, I hear a loud bang or a pop and I wake up in a panic with my heart racing. I suspect this is just the side-effect of having my brain jerked out of sleep in a nanosecond by whatever process controls “contemplation” which I’ve refused to let fall asleep. Whatever it is, it teaches me my lesson and I fall asleep shortly after. And then it’s morning.
In the last few months I’ve been trying to condition myself to the later hours. My current bedtime is actually 11:00. I watch the first act of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart and then I turn off the TV. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to push it further than that without some professional help. Falling asleep on the next day would just be too much for me for handle I think. I’ve spent late nights out at the movies before, but when I get home I avoid clocks like criminals avoid video cameras. I shower, brush my teeth, put on my PJs, cover the numbers on my LED clock and crawl into bed. The 11:00 bedtime I’ve achieved is sufficient for my needs. I can stay at parties a little later and make it home without too much anxiety, but it’s still just a compromising solution.
I don’t think I can adequately communicate what it’s like to have to live this way, but writing this has certainly shed some light on the possible reasons why and has hopefully helped others understand my sneaking out of parties just before they get going or tonight’s little incident with shunning the movie theatre. I suspect one day I’ll seek help with this, but I’ve no time for it now.
1 Paul D on Sat, Oct 8th 2005 9:36 pm
I remember your brother* having a sleep over once, and me and two other friends were there with your brother. We stayed up really late (about 4AM) just talking. We weren’t even playing video games or watching movies or anything.
Anyways, you got up at about 7AM, and were in the next room playing Super NES. Then, you started yelling for your mom. And you wouldn’t…. stop…. ever.
I wanted to strangle you that day.
Luckily you turned out okay.
*I am friends with Aaron’s other brother, not Chris, the brother who posted here.
Well, I guess I’m friends with all of them, I lived there for 4 months, but I’m much better friends with the oldest brother than the other two. No offense Aaron or Chris.
2 Aaron on Sat, Oct 8th 2005 10:26 pm
I’ve heard that story from more than one of Pete’s friends, and I still have absolutely no recollection of it. Everything up until me screaming upstairs seems to fit the memory I have my old days, but that doesn’t ring any bells at all. I’ll take this opportunity to apologize for my screaming and any loss of sleep I may have caused. Now that I’m older, I can appreciate a person’s need for sleep a little more. Back then sleep was just a chore between playtime.