I’ve been suffering from chronic insomnia for several years now. When I was a teenager, I’ve always had difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep, but I just thought it was normal. I didn’t think those were the most common symptoms of insomnia. Throughout the years, I’ve also developed anxiety. Whether or not it’s due to my constant lack of sleep, I’m not sure.

But it’s been going on for so long that these days it just feels like something that pops up every week and lasts for a couple of days before resolving itself on its own. Like that obnoxious friend you have that appears out of the blue, insists on catching up, and then disappears again without letting you know when they’ll be back.

Some days it is bearable, but 2019 was a pretty challenging year for me in my personal and professional life. I went through a breakup, had to endure the sudden death of a close relative that I never had the chance to make amends with, another sudden death just before Christmas — my dog, who was with us for close to nine years — and my mother hospitalized just after New Year’s.

Needless to say that my insomnia came back with a vengeance in 2019. My mental health was in tatters, further exacerbating it. I felt like I couldn’t get out of this hellhole. I started to forget things more often. Paying attention in class was ridiculously difficult to the point where I couldn’t stay focussed for more than twenty minutes.

So, I turned to sleeping pills and anti-depressants as a “quick fix”, promising my doctor that I just needed it for a couple of months and then I’d be fine.

That “quick fix” often isn’t the “best fix”

I know it’s not the best way, that I should have tried other cures for insomnia like meditation, reading, avoiding all blue light-emitting devices at least one hour before bed, the whole lot. But at the time I just cared about getting through my third year in college.

It was the first time I’d taken those medications. I remember waking up groggy and hungover after a mad 15-hour sleep. But the feeling of finally being able to sleep was simply wonderful. It was exhilarating.

And it was difficult to stop.

I found myself reaching for a sleeping pill any time I had the slightest feeling that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I tried to hide those pills for fear of becoming addicted, but every time, I would always find my way back, trying to justify to myself that after this last pill, I would stop.

And the cycle continued. My tolerance to the drug increased pretty quickly, and to counter that, I naturally had to take more just to get my eight hours of sleep.

When the self-quarantine order was implemented in my country, I had to immediately pack for my relatives’ house, driving on the empty highway in the middle of the night as fast as I dared to be home in time before the police set up roadblocks.

And I forgot my pills.

And when your quick fix is gone, what do you do?

The first two weeks were hellish.

My mind was like a congested highway. It was on high alert 24/7 while at the same time unable to focus on a single thought. I could barely focus on anything people said to me, I couldn’t retain any information, I felt like a walking shell with no substance. The nights were the worst, when everyone was asleep and it was just me and my debilitating thoughts.

And then I realized that I can’t rely on these pills forever. The great thing about the lockdown is that I finally have some time to myself to reevaluate the choices I’ve made in life so far. Taking those drugs isn’t something that I’m proud of. For the better part of a year, it ruled my life, took control of my brain and how I led my life.

Without the pills, I thought I wouldn’t be able to survive.

But then there I was, with my family, and alive. Sure, I was very agitated but then I thought, what can I do with this extra time I have at night? Instead of tossing and turning in bed and staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come my way, what can I do to try and make myself sleep?

What can I do so that these hours were not wasted? If I was spending two hours in bed trying to sleep, I would have wasted about fourteen hours per week. Fourteen hours! Imagine what you could do with that time.

I realized that part of the reason why I couldn’t sleep during the lockdown was because everything had come to a standstill. Classes, work, social activities — my daily routine had gone out of the window! I didn’t have my books or my class notes. All I had was a slow, aging laptop with too much bloatware that could barely function and my phone.

Try and make the best of it

So, with so much time on my hands, I learned how to reformat my laptop! It was just a quick Google search away and, with a little technical knowledge about computers, I managed to wipe everything on my laptop’s hard disk, reinstalled a new copy of Windows, and now it’s running as good as new. If I had done this much earlier, I would probably have been way more productive.

That’s now a common thought in my head: “If I had done this earlier, I would have…”

Insomnia is indeed a horrible condition to be suffering from. But you don’t have to let it rule you. Take your medications, if you need to, but always remember that you’re in charge of your own wellbeing. The power to make it better lies in your hands.

Sure, the first two weeks without my medications were morbidly difficult. But I know that I don’t ever want to feel like that again, and the only way for that to happen is to take steps to ensure that I won’t ever have to rely on medications.

Now with all this extra time, I spend it doing things that I’ve always wanted to do but couldn’t before the lockdown happened. I’d do simple things like sit at my desk and try to write something or read whatever article that I have saved on my phone.

This essentially translates into an extra 1–2 hours of reading and absorbing useful advice from popular self-help writers and bloggers. I realize that the more I read, the more there is to learn. Every day I’m discovering new writers with interesting, beneficial content.

If I had just lain in bed allowing my anxiety to overcome me with nasty thoughts of events that have at most a 1% chance of occurring, I wouldn’t have been able to discover the Internet’s more helpful, less keyboard-warrior-ish side.

During these hours of the night when it’s quiet, I’ve been learning how to reconnect with myself again. It’s been years since I wrote anything. I essentially ignored my creativity to cater to the academic side of writing, which wasn’t something I particularly enjoyed.

Work with what you have

By working with my insomnia instead of against it, I’ve been able to express myself more through additional hours of reading and writing. As a result, I find my creativity flourishing in unexpected ways.

I find myself wanting to try out new methods of planning for the future and techniques to improve my own wellbeing that I otherwise wouldn’t have given much thought to.

The point is, I’m not allowing my insomnia to be an obstruction for me. I’m using it and forcing myself to see the benefits of having it. I can’t sleep, therefore I have more time on my hands to do other things.

Now, I have more time to do more of what I love and that, in turn, is making me a happier person overall.

When I finally do get my sleep, I can rest well knowing that I’ve accomplished something that day that my future self will be proud of.