I have not been sleeping well lately. I do this every now and then: fall asleep quite nicely, then wake up around 4 or 4:30 in the morning. I perform the chicken-on-a-spit routine in bed for a few hours, then finally drift off about 7 am – and awake with a start around 10, thinking, Where the hell did my morning go?
This issue first surfaced about 10 or 12 years ago, when I was in the throes of a marriage that was not working out so well. When we finally split up, my sleeping very gradually went back to what was normal for me: 9 or 10 very solid hours of slumber, with the occasional pee break in the early morning hours.
Since then, this insomnia thing comes back once or twice a year, usually in reaction to some type of stress in my life. I guess that’s pretty normal. Lots of people don’t sleep well when they’re preoccupied or worried or upset. It’s just that I never used to be one of those people. I could – and did – sleep very well, regardless of the circumstances. I used to sleep like a log the night before final exams at university, for heaven’s sake!
My friend BFJ insists that this is all part of menopause. “Oh, pshaw,” I told her. “I’m not menopausal yet!”
My friend Meshka also tells me that this is part of menopause. “Tut tut,” I told her. “I’m not menopausal yet! I’m just not sleeping lately, that’s all.”
But both of these friends ARE menopausal, and they keep telling me that this is a symptom of menopause. They have both had trouble sleeping at times, and they both rely on meds to help them when the not-sleeping gets too awful.
I have a better solution, menopause or no menopause.
I’m reasoning that if ever there was a perfect place to be when you can’t sleep, Las Vegas is it. At least I’ll be able to keep busy when I’m not sleeping.