We all know what sleep deprivation can feel like. It is not nice.
The thing is, in the past, the causes had been pleasurable. I knew that if I was going on a weekend-long bender I was going to feel crap on Monday morning but could balance that against the good time preceding it. Weighing the two together the good time won.
Not being able to afford a live-in carer to deal with all the night interruptions, once Small was on the scene sleep deprivation was unavoidable. Night after night of interrupted sleep for week after week was way too high a price to pay for a fleeting, fumbled few minutes of pleasure several months previously. The balance was all wrong.
In the first few days I survived on adrenaline but that soon wore off. For the next few weeks (possibly months, it was all a blur) I was ready to sleep just about anywhere at any time and if I could, I did.
Of course, having a Small and being sleep deprived is one of the biggest clichés going. And whilst there were plenty of people ready to take a jab at my expense I had to accept that it was a reality. I just had to live through it and hold to the fact that at some point things would get better. Wouldn’t they?
Here are some of the symptoms I suffered from whilst seriously sleep deprived:
- Going out and leaving the front door wide open.
- Putting the milk in the cupboard and the coffee jar in the fridge.
- Shutting my head in the cupboard.
- Not noticing the above.
- Not noticing the above and slamming the door a couple of times wondering what was jamming it.
- Beeping a trolley load of shopping through the till at the supermarket and then realising I didn’t have my wallet.
- Forgetting to pick Small up from crèche.
- Having a terrible short term memory (really short – a matter of seconds).
- Getting everyone’s names wrong or not remembering them at all – even my wife’s!
- Being clumsy, dropping everything I touched.
- Getting emotional.
- Suffering from continuous colds.
- Being unable to make simple decisions/process ideas.
- Having difficulty focusing, physically and mentally.
- Getting in the back seat of the car and wondering where the steering wheel had gone.
- Never being able to finish a
Funnily enough, if I listed the signs of getting older it would be very similar. Perhaps I just got old during that fuzzy period of my life when Small first arrived? It certainly feels that way.