Day Seven

I get two reactions when I tell people about the study I'm participating in. Some people, on hearing that I'm only allowed six hours of sleep a night for ten days, say something along the lines of, "Oh my gosh, that sounds awful." Others say, "Six hours? That's not bad." Those are the people who don't realize that they're sleep deprived, or at least don't realize how much better life is when you're not. Sleep deprivation is the sort of thing you don't notice unless you have something to compare it with.

It's like my experience with water. For years I didn't get enough to drink. I'm really not sure why I did this, because it was sort of a conscious move. I would only drink a few sips of water with my meals and I felt oddly proud that I didn't really have to wash my meals down. I wasn't completely dehydrated - I would keep a cup by the sink at home and fill it with water when I got thirsty, but I didn't get anywhere near my eight glasses a day. Then I started running. Then I started running farther and water became important. I started drinking more of it during the day (partly because I had a hard time drinking before or during a run without getting a cramp), and the more water I drank, the more I became aware of my thirst. Nowadays my water cup by the kitchen sink is a big plastic 32-ounce monster, and I drain it at least twice a day (once before I leave for school and again over the course of the evening). I also have water bottle that I drag around with me when I'm on campus, and another water bottle I keep in the cup holder in my car. I hate the feeling of being thirsty, but until I started drinking my eight cups a day (or more) I never realized that I was thirsty.

I've been getting enough sleep most nights for so long (years) that it's very easy for me to recognize when I'm not getting enough of it, more so than I think it must be for someone who spends most of the week losing sleep. But to be honest, it's not as bad as I initially thought it was going to be. On Sunday all I could think about was being tired, except when I was thinking about being hungry (fast Sunday and sleep deprivation are not a good combination). On Monday morning my run was sluggish and I felt like crying for no discernible reason and muscles and head ached a little bit and I felt just the tiniest bit nauseous, and going to sleep was kind of depressing because I already knew that in what would feel like minutes I would be dragging myself out of bed again without having gotten enough rest.

But Monday was the worst of it and since then I've gradually gotten used to my new sleep patterns and level of fatigue. I've been surpringly happy this week, though circumstances (other than the sleep thing) are not noticeably different from any other week. And although I have moments when I just want to put my head down on my desk and nap (not allowed), I also have moments when I'm very alert and energetic. And my runs have been great, which thing I ceretainly did not expect. In fact, with the exception of Monday, this is the best running week I've had in close to a month, maybe longer. My schoolwork has also not been drastically affected. It's hard to read for long periods of time, and my productivity is down a little. But I also managed to participate more in my Monday class than I have all semester (class participation is normally quite hard for me), and I felt sufficiently articulate and enthusiastic in the class I taught on Wednesday and when I talked to a student about my observation of her teaching experience.

Not that I've been converted to a sleepless lifestyle. I am still counting down the time (seven down, four to go!) and have great plans for coming home after my Tuesday clinic visit, taking a shower, and collapsing on my bed for a well-deserved nap. I have noticed that it's harder for me to think about some things. And knowing that I'm not allowed to sleep in or take a nap, even though I don't usually do those things anyway, makes me feel sort of trapped, and that's an unpleasant feeling. Knowing that you can't have something is generally worse than actually not having it. When I gave up sugar for a week with my roommate a few years ago, knowing that I couldn't have sugar made me crave it. On fast Sundays, knowing that I can't eat until after church makes me want to eat even at times during the day when I'm not feeling particularly hungry. And carrying the analogy further, a girl in my ward added, "I tend to be more interested in a boy when I'm not getting anywhere with him than I am once I have him." So it's not so much the feeling of not having had enough sleep for several nights as it is knowing that I can't do anything about it (well, unless I want to give up my $800 and deligitimize everything I've already done up to this point).

So I can hold out for another four days, because things have gotten easier instead of harder. And because come Tuesday it will feel really, really good to lay down at night without setting my alarm for six hours later.