My Insomnia Story

by RemedyFind Columnist and Insomnia Host - Amy Proal

My name is Amy Proal and I am 23 years old. I have insomnia, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) and Fibromyalgia Syndrome (FMS). In the upcoming months, I will be the new host of the insomnia newsletter. A citizen of both the U.S. and Mexico, I grew up in Mexico City before moving to Chicago at age 15. In 2000, I moved to Washington D.C. to attend Georgetown University. I graduated with a degree in biology last spring of 2005. As part of my senior thesis, I spent several months investigating the stages of sleep, sleep disorders, and a variety of other sleep related issues.

Here is my story…..

Many aspects of our world fill me with fascination and disbelief. Such as the fact that if we collected every grain of sand on the globe, the number of particles would still be ten times less than all the stars in the universe. Or the idea that birds somehow know exactly which direction to head when they migrate over thousands of miles. However, few things amaze me more than a situation like the one I witnessed yesterday after my sister came to town for a visit. Late in the evening, I watched her yawn and casually announce that she planned to go to sleep. Since I have no extra bed, she curled up with a few blankets on my hard wooden floor. I listened with fascination as the room filled with the sound of steady breathing only five minutes later.

The reality that others can simply will their bodies to fall asleep, particularly in a foreign or uncomfortable environment, leaves me in complete awe. For years, the notion that I can merely decide to fall asleep, even under ideal circumstances, has been inconceivable. Instead, getting to bed each night poses a challenge of enormous proportions, filled with a host of both psychological and physical obstacles.

During my high school years, I first began to notice that I was unable to sleep like the “normal” individual. If I stayed up late with friends on the weekend, I would fall asleep, but wake up just a few hours later, feeling despondent and exhausted. Yet I was completely unable to go back to bed. By the time my friends woke up, I had already chowed down two lonely meals and stared at the TV like a zombie for hours. Regardless of what time I went to bed, I was unable to sleep past 7 a.m. or take a nap during the day.

These sleep disturbances escalated when I went to college since I was forced to stay up late studying every night. Things got worse when I began to have trouble falling asleep as well. Despite the fact that I was always exhausted, I would frequently get into bed and find myself staring at the ceiling. These nights marked the start of a “tired yet wired” feeling that would continue to haunt me in the years to come. I took huge amounts of Tylenol PM and NyQuil, which did nothing to help me get to bed. I reached a point where I would often not sleep for nights at a time and completing my class assignments became a constant challenge.

As I became increasingly frustrated with my growing sleep issues, I sought guidance from the Student Health Clinic. The doctors at Student Health made little effort to investigate my condition and attributed my problems to anxiety and academic pressure. I was handed a sleep pamphlet, told to relax, nudged out the door, and denied any form of sleep medication (which at this point I hardly knew existed).

Soon I began to suffer from health problems besides sleep deprivation. My throat and head ached constantly. Over and over, I returned to Student Health, insisting I was ill. I went so often that the doctors at the clinic stopped taking me seriously. I have no doubt they had a bright sheet with the word HYPOCHONDRIAC written in huge letters attached to the front of my chart.

By this point, my inability to sleep began to drastically alter my life. I stopped going out on weekends because I could no longer lose sleep by going to bed late. When I enrolled in a summer program in Italy, I found that after the plane ride, I was unable to recover from jet lag. I didn’t sleep for a single night of the month long program. I watched my classmates enjoy gelato in what felt like a feverish dream.

When I returned to the United States, I went to a doctor at a nearby hospital. By this time, I was so drained that I became hysterical when I described my circumstances. The doctor gave me a low dose of Klonopin (Clonazepam) but was quick to refer me to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist was sure I was depressed. I struggled with the irony of this diagnosis. I was extremely upset, but ONLY because I was unable to sleep. However, he did his best to convince my family that he was correct, which prevented them from sending me to a sleep specialist.

For a while, Klonopin did help me get some rest. Still, during the majority of nights, sleep continued to elude me. To make matters worse, I began to feel increasingly ill. If I failed to sleep at night, my symptoms became drastically worse; the day following a sleepless night was torturous. I stumbled through life with a horrible headache, body pain, and the inability to concentrate or focus. I was so afraid of what would happen if I didn’t sleep that I became paranoid. It sounds crazy, but I actually developed a fear of my bed, because it symbolized memories of nights spent tossing and turning. When trying to fall asleep, I became frantic when I saw my alarm clock, slowly ticking away the minutes before I would be forced to get up and function. I spent the majority of my days in terror, fixated on what would happen during the upcoming evening. The future seemed like an endless progression of days spent in delirium and pain. I broke down in tears on a regular basis, tormented by the fact that my condition refused to improve.

During my senior year of college, my flu-like symptoms escalated to the point where I could no longer get out of bed. I took a leave of absence from school and went home. By now, my parents were so worried about my circumstances that they took me to nearly every type of doctor that existed. I tried a multitude of homeopathic and natural sleep remedies; however, none proved powerful enough to correct what had become a terrible condition. Finally, after several months, I was alerted to the possibility that I might have CFS. I displayed every symptom of the illness and was officially diagnosed around 2003.

I went to see one of the top CFS specialists in the country. As I began to work with him to stabilize my condition, insomnia was my primary complaint. My doctor believes that, in order to manage symptoms, it is essential that CFS victims get 7-8 hours of sleep each night. Thus, he prescribes whatever number of sleep aids a patient needs in order to obtain the required amount of rest. I felt like a kid in a candy store as I carefully experimented with nearly every sleep aid on the market. I found a combination of Klonopin, Gabitril (Tiagabine) and Desyrel (Trazodone) that “clicked.” I had been given my life back. A burden the size of a boulder was lifted from my shoulders as I gradually adjusted to the reality that I no longer had to spend every day in a state of exhaustion and fear.

Despite the fact that sleep aids now allow me to get a successful night of zzzzzz’s, I still strive to find natural ways to further enhance my sleep. My mother is a yoga instructor and has worked closely with me to develop a relaxing restorative yoga sequence that I do each night before bed. I have spent time learning deep breathing and meditation techniques to help me to relax at night. I have tried acupuncture, various forms of massage, and biofeedback with mixed amounts of success. (see my reviews….).

I am happy to say that today I no longer fill with dread when I enter my bedroom and think about the upcoming night. Instead, I have turned my place of rest into a small sanctuary, with an inviting bed that I look forward to crawling into each night.

Although my sleep medicines have made a dramatic difference in my ability to rest, my sleep is far from perfect. But for the most part, I am doing much, much better. My energy level has increased to the point where I have been able to resume many of my hobbies and activities.

Of course, like most people taking medication for sleep, I hope that I don’t have to remain dependent on drugs for the rest of my life. In time, I plan to experiment with lowering my doses of sleep aids and hope that my mind and body may once again be able to naturally take control over some of my ability to function nocturnally.

Consequently, if I ever mention that I’m planning to doze off on the floor and make no mention of medication, be aware that upon awakening, I will view the situation as nothing short of a miracle. Or maybe I’ll realize later that the events were just part of a dream……but hey, at least that will mean that I was asleep! And nothing could be more beautiful than that….