Musings of an Insomniac

Insomnia [in-som-nee-uh]:  chronic inability to fall asleep or to enjoy uninterrupted sleep. 

For myself it used to be one or the other; either I would lay in bed for hours not able to fall asleep before finally passing out, or I'd fall asleep easily only to be woken up by various things every 30 or so minutes.  This week...this month...it's both.  On those rare occasions I can fall asleep it's typically 15-20 minutes before the dreams start.  And although it's never been the case, I always convince myself at least twice that it's worth trying to fall back asleep.  I do, for another 15-20 minutes and then I dream again.  Eventually the fear of dreaming causes enough anxiety that the short spans of sleep cease being a possibility.

When I try to sleep and can't, or do and have these dreams, I am far more exhausted the following day than if I just stay up.  So every night (or more likely morning) I weigh the benefits of sleep against the risk of exhaustion and more often than not, decide it's not worth the risk.  Two weeks ago I slept twelve hours.  Last week, six.  I have never been one to require a lot of sleep, six hours a night is normally the most I can do.  But six hours a week has a tendency to impede function and rationality. 

On one of these sleepless nights a week or so ago I decided to finally transfer my files from my old desktop to my laptop.  The desktop is the computer I had in college and it hasn't even been turned on in years.  I began to randomly open documents and came across one I wrote for College Writing II back in spring of 2003 titled "Sleep".  Apparently eight years ago I was in the midst of a similar struggle and wrote an explanatory essay on how to train yourself to sleep less.  I like to think I'm much different than I was as a freshman in college, but I guess some things are reluctant to change.

Absolutely everyone - doctors, friends, family - seems to have an opinion on resolving this issue for me.  But what if I'm afraid of the resolution?  Inside my head there are so many different brands of crazy.  At this point I'm unable to differentiate the crazy caused by sleep deprivation from the rest.  What if I begin to sleep regularly and become a normal well-rested person but all the crazy is still there?  At what point do I have to accept that I'm just not well?  Some things are hard to think about, so I'll choose to be sleep-deprived for one more day.

The Order of Chaos

The image here is something a fellow math geek would be familiar with, but likely not many others.  It’s a fractal.  This one is specifically an image of a ‘Julia set’.  I find the Julia set to be beautiful in such a profound way that it’s difficult to describe, but I’ll try anyway.  I won’t get into too technical a description of fractals, but they fascinate me so bear with me for a moment.  While mathematically fractals are a type of equation, it’s the visual they create that’s most impressive.  They portray a concept known as self-similarity, meaning that the image can be broken down into smaller images with the same shape.  So basically the entire likeness is the same shape repeated in varied scales (Koch curve is a really good example).

The Julia set is a type of fractal based on a function.  When values are assigned, the function will behave in a way considered either ‘regular’ or ‘chaotic’.  If the behavior is chaotic it is considered the Julia set, and its image will be similar to the one at the beginning of this post.  Beautiful even if you know nothing about it, but mesmerizing when you see the details.

There is practical application for today’s math lesson.  The study of fractals and chaos theory is intensely interesting.  The fact that chaos – “a state of disorder” – can be studied at all is fascinating to me.  I see it as an example of God’s perfect order.  In everything there is system, organization.  It’s there even (maybe especially) when we can’t see it. 

I consider chaos theory to be applicable to so many more abstract things than topographical maps, shorelines, or whichever mathematical uses we’ve found so far.  In the chaos of my life, there is order even when I cannot fathom it.  To see order in the chaos of anything – weather systems, for instance – you have to change your perspective.  You can’t look only at the data in front of you but must analyze patterns that only a trained eye would be able to discern.  Similarly, the only way to find order in our lives at times is with an eternal perspective.  The problem is our minds are finite and not capable of a true eternal perspective.  So in the midst of chaos we’re told to trust that our God is faithful.  Jeremiah 29:11 says, “for I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”  This is what I cling to, and I look forward to one day being able to see the beauty in my chaos.

The Paradox of Progress

Around eleven months ago, I was sitting alone at a worship service for young adults at my church, listening to my pastor continue his series on Romans.  I was present at this service somewhat regularly and truly looked forward to the teaching each week and the time spent worshiping through music.  I also very much enjoyed that I could attend alone and keep to myself apart from distant pleasantries and polite surface conversations when they were forced on me. 

So there I was in that chair, one row from the back, on the aisle ready for a quick exit.  We were supposed to be finishing Romans chapter 8 but once the pastor read verse 28 he paused.  He decided then to focus on only that verse.  What immediately caught my attention was my pastor’s willingness to change his plan based on the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  I’ve never been good at going “off-plan” even when I feel strongly that I should.  I developed a plan for a reason, and how on earth would anything get accomplished if we all just scrapped our plans all the time?  But my pastor yielded to God’s plan over his own, and as dramatic as it sounds, my life has not been the same since.

Romans 8:28 says “and we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  My pastor broke this verse down piece by piece, and I’ll never forget him looking directly at me while saying “in all things”.  Granted, he repeated it many times and probably made eye contact with half the people in the room, but it resonated deeply within me.  Feelings that I had numbed for over 15 years began to stir.  The rest of the night I tried to pay attention but couldn’t focus on anything but “in all things”.  For the next week, it was all I could focus on.  I read that verse over and over and became angrier and angrier.  There are some things that are not good; that cannot be good.  But then it doesn’t say “in all things there is good”, it says “God works for the good”.  And if God is willing to work for the good in my life, why aren’t I?  Who am I to tell the God of the universe that His work isn’t worth the effort?

So began the nearly year-long journey of healing I’m progressing through now.  It’s a funny thing, progress.  Because when I started this, I was a 25-year-old strong, independent woman who had life pretty well figured out.  True, I didn’t have close friendships, but I didn’t need them.  True, I didn’t emote or relate in any way that wasn’t purely logical, but emotions denote weakness, so who needs them?  I was a survivor.  I was comfortable.  I was fine.  Now I’m 26 and don’t have a thing in the world figured out.  I’m learning to process emotions I haven’t felt since age 10.  Every second of every day I feel something:  anger, contempt, guilt, sadness, hopelessness, fear…Having spent 60% of my life in relative numbness, I don’t know how to manage these feelings.  I’m 10 years old again but living in a world where I’m expected to relate and react as a 26-year-old.  And yet this is progress. 

Eleven months ago I had a plan.  I would work through the issues that I have, giving myself plenty of time to process things, and be done and on to a newer, better me in 6 months.  Rather than being 5 months into this newer, better me, I feel like I’m still at square 1.  There have been changes.  I realize that independence is not something to strive for, but instead complete dependence on the grace of Christ.  I know that in order to actually be strong I have to be weak and allow Christ’s strength to be perfected in my weakness.  I understand that relating emotionally to others is a reflection of God’s love and compassion toward me and is the key to fulfilling relationships. 

All these things I know, but still haven’t a clue how to make them reality in my life.  I still don’t know how to trust God.  It still makes me feel judged and vulnerable when I open up to other people.  Most of the time I just want to go back to feeling numb again so I can stop hurting.  Moving toward pain is completely contrary to intuition.  I know reason, logic.  I don’t know how to be a person who feels things.  I’m walking headlong into the pain, praying to be broken down so that I may be restored.  I am vulnerable and scared, and yet this is progress.  What a paradox.