Goodnight Guilt

“Thump, thump, thump…” The sound of her own heartbeat was so loud and strong it permeated all her senses. As soon as the light was out, her mind lit up with all sorts of thoughts. “Did I put the trash can at the street today? Did dinner get put in the fridge? What was that noise?” She realized she was holding her breath and focused on slowly breathing in and out. “What was the right way to do this? In through the nose and out through the mouth? Or is it in through the mouth and out through the nose?” She pushed the thought from her mind and rolled over, settling into a comfortable position. As she waited for sleep to find her, the thoughts came back. “Is it too cold in here? Maybe I should put on some socks. If I’m cold the children must be cold.” And so, she pulled herself out of bed, compelled to go check that everything was as it should be.

The kids were both sleeping soundly in beautiful warm bundles in their beds. A walkthrough of the house proved that she did in fact, put dinner away. The can was visible at the street, and she allowed herself the peace knowing that all was taken care of. Maybe now, she could quiet her thoughts and sleep.

She crawled back in bed as the clock changed to 1:01 am. A momentary guilt passed over her as she calculated the maximum amount of time she would have to sleep before her alarm blared at 6:50 am. “Let’s try this again” She thought. She turned out the light and rolled back over. Taking care to try to get in the exact position as before so that she would be just as comfortable.

To calm herself and quiet her world, she allowed herself to slip into a daydream in the hopes that she could encourage nice dreams to fill her mind that night. And sleep finally found her.

She was running, but not afraid. She happily ran down the grassy path full of wonder and excitement. The air was fresh and sunlight lit up the green garden around her. Brightly colored flowers danced in the breeze as she ran down. Her skin was warm from the rays of sun. She could feel her own laughter bubbling out of her. A familiar voice called to her from behind. As she turned around to see who it was, all her surroundings disappeared to black and was replaced by a deafening sound. The realization of morning and reality was enough to make her want to cry.

She reluctantly unearthed her hand from the warm covers to stop the incessant buzzing and grappled for the snooze button. She smacked her hand down and missed. A second attempt also failed and knocked her silver watch to the floor with a clang. She digressed and one eye unenthusiastically opened. She found what she was looking for. Quiet at last. She sank back under the covers and meditated on the dream. If only she could be back there, in the beautiful, warm, green, unnamed place. That’s when realization hit her. She was happy there. Carefree. Why couldn’t she be happy and carefree in her own reality?

The answer was simple. Because she had been forced into survival. The past few months she had been so focused on just doing the “next thing,” carefully planning and taking every precaution; eventually tuning out the news articles and noise of the world. It all made perfect sense. Why does her mind jump to a checklist of tasks every night as she lays down to sleep? Why is sleep so impossible to achieve at the end of every day? Because she had adapted her life to trying to stop cruel interruptions before they could even happen. Because she had an image of what her life “should” be, and she could not live up to the own expectation that she fashioned for herself. She felt like a failure.

She sat up, deep in thought. A depression settled over her as she grasped that she was trying to achieve the impossible. Her efforts felt hopeless. Right now, all she wanted was a few more hours in her bed, her haven, before she had to face the uncertainties that the day would bring. Everything else seemed so insignificant compared to simply falling back asleep. She chuckled to herself as she recalled a funny photo she had seen while scrolling on social media about a person who contemplated if they truly needed their job or if they could just go back to bed. She could absolutely relate in this moment.

The thought was shattered by the next alarming of the clock. Instead, she would have to just settle for some self-discipline and a hot cup of ambition. Her feet hit the cold wooden floor and she began her day.

The next few minutes were much the same as every morning. The rituals played themselves out. “ Let the dog out. Wait by the coffee maker until the pot is ready. Wake up the kids and start getting them ready for the day.” Still, she was lost in thought the whole time.

It wasn’t until the kids had been dropped off at school and she was alone in her little white sedan that she decided to break the status quo. She was stopped at a red light, the grocery store just a few blocks ahead of her. She took a sip of coffee from her blue and yellow travel mug which said “be kind to yourself” on the front. It seemed Kismet. She glanced at the grocery list on the passenger seat next to her and put it away in her purse. She would be kind to herself today. She was going to put herself first and take a break. Her decision felt rash but she did not care. She drove past the grocery store, made a right, and then a left and wound up back in her own driveway.

Her change of plans felt a little rebellious, but wonderful all the same. She changed out of her jeans and sweater and traded it for a soft, oversized T-shirt and sweats. Then she silenced her phone, set an alarm for two hours, then upon second thought, changed it to three and crawled back in bed.

The bed was welcoming and warm and smelled like lavender fabric softener. The house was quiet and so was her mind. Her golden cocker spaniel Lucy jumped up and curled up at her feet as if to say, “I’m on board with day-napping!”

Her own rendition of “Goodnight Moon” inspired her thoughts as she said to herself “Goodnight phone, goodnight errands, goodnight guilt, and hello dreamlands.”

Two hours and twenty-three minutes later, she naturally woke up before her alarm even went off. She was happy, Inspired, motivated and ready to start the day again. She cheerfully ran her errands, got some work done, caught up on mail, and gave her kids the gift of a well-rested, present mom that evening. They even had some time to spare for a round of “Uno” before bed.

That night, after the children were asleep, chores done, and the house became quiet, she glanced at the clock 10:47 pm. Much earlier than the night before. Instead of being plagued by guilt and checklists, she allowed herself to recant the wins today.

She had caught up on work, met deadlines, did her chores, and finally, she was able to fall asleep without fear and guilt plaguing her. She vowed that this was a new normal. Once, maybe twice a week this year, she would allow herself the extra sleep.

Wonderful things began to happen. After a few days, she began to wake even before the rude interruption of an alarm. A game or story with her children before bed became a new ritual. More and more every day, she felt like the woman in the garden. Happy and Warm and with life blooming all around her, all because she gave herself the grace to rest.