The title of this post is the tagline for The Machinist, and it is a very good question indeed.
Unlike Christian Bale’s character in the film, my insomnia didn’t last a year. Had it done so, I would probably be dead. And, not having seen the film, I don’t know what steps the character takes to cure it.
Insomnia is now buried in my past, though I sometimes have difficulty sleeping. But there’s a huge difference between lying awake for a few hours, turning the light back on, then reading another chapter before finally crashing out, and not actually sleeping at all. Well, except for maybe two or three hours one night in four.
By which point you have discovered that a warm bath wakes you up, lavender smells atrocious, alcohol gives you headaches, sleeping pills don’t work, a night-time walk is dangerous, and any work you attempt at 4am -- having been encouraged by people who wish they slept less -- the next day turns out to be rubbish.
And during those daytime days you look terrible, you loose co-ordination, your voice sounds awful, you drag yourself around like a mixed sack of coal and scrap metal, you forget things you should do and imagine things you don't have to do, as well as occasionally hallucinating.
All is beyond a struggle. The vacuum cleaner is so heavy you can’t even use it, and all you want is sleep. You are so TIRED. And each night, completely exhausted, you crash in to bed ... but DON’T SLEEP.
Then you discover there are devices especially designed for your condition that are categorically proven to work. You LOVE the auditory glory of nature, so you order, and anxiously await delivery of, a sound machine, more luxuriously known as a sound conditioner.
(Like a sleepless night, this post goes on and on.)
You plug it in at your bedside, and feel like an old person. There is nothing cool about this beige plastic thing. However, there are important choices to make. Will you sleep better to the sound of a lake lapping on the shore, waves crashing on a beach, a babbling brook, Niagara Falls, or cute little crickets accompanied by croaking frogs?
But lo, you are soon yanked from the lakeside as you recognise the pattern of the water lapping on the shore. The waterfall’s tap is shut off as it re-loops, just for a nanosecond -- but you know exactly when it’s coming. You are wide-awake, and doomed to a life of insomnia.
You rest your head on the pillow and listen to hours and hours of crickets and croaking frogs. The glass windows break. You are surrounded by tall grass, your feet slipping on slimy, frog-covered ground. You swipe cat-sized insects away from your face, slithering to escape a gigantic monster, ready to whip its tongue around your neck.
You wake up screaming. Oh, happy day! Nightmares are so much sweeter than no sleep at all.
