Post-Election: Can You Rest and Sleep?

It’s my familiar feeling of the past month: persistent, intense nausea centered right above my belly button. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I had food poisoning.

I had it the night after my father was diagnosed with cancer; the week approaching a possible visit with my rageaholic brother; and tonight, election night.

Restful Insomnia supports everybody in the quest for renewal during insomnia. And this election had so much hate and fear, some of us will have a harder time feeling safe to rest and sleep. I’m one of them: I’m not sure how I will fall asleep tonight, or how to manage lighter sleep transitions.

Diving deep into anxiety? Not tonight

My usual path with my anxiety and nausea during family issues has been to dive deep into the experience in my body and mind. (I have a newsletter all set to send about that, but election-anxiety is taking precedence at the moment. Keep an eye out for the personal newsletter.)

When I had anxiety about family, I could feel both the lingering trauma that was being triggered and my wiser self to help guide the process. Now, with fears about so much hate — it feels there’s no adult, wise self to hold the fear.

Still, it’s 1 a.m., and tomorrow I’ll be helping manage my dad’s pain, dealing with his drowsiness from his medicine, and trying to get him to take another sip of Ensure.

So what to do? I’ll try to fall asleep by pretending to take a placebo, and see what techniques I use to make it through the night. I’ll let you know in the morning how it went.

8 a.m., I’m still here

It’s morning. I’m surprised I rested and slept, but I did.

How did I do that? Instead of diving deep, of being with “what is” in my body and mind, I changed the topic.

It’s a tool I’ve taught often, and I’m glad I had it at hand. I gave my mind something else to do. Making it detour away from the fear, away from the images and projections on the future.

Last night I chose math. I picked a number (1763 as I remember) and counted backwards by 7s. It was just hard enough that my mind had to be engaged in a different focus. Sometimes I’ve chosen a yoga or qi gong sequence. Clients have imagined a regular walk. But it kept me from the anxiety spiral so easy to touch in on.

I hoped the natural urge to rest and sleep would take hold, and it did.

One night at a time

I’m not sure if this technique will work again tonight, but if it doesn’t, I’ll explore and find another one that does. Find what will take me through the democratic transition of power that my candidate believed in. (Uh, oh, there I go.)

No matter what happens — in my personal life or in my connection to my country — I want to honor the power of rest, presence, and hope. That means to feel my feelings during the day, or choose to take a break from them (computer games!) so I can return later to heal.

And return again to the present, to whatever safety and reality I feel in the moment, rather than letting my mind (and stomach) call all the shots.

May we all continue to do the work to make ourselves and our communities ones that embrace diversity, inclusion, and growth.

Wishing you peace and hope,
Sondra