Published: Good Men Project (February 10, 2015)
I am an American and an insomniac … and that link is not coincidental.
___
My insomnia is a distinctly American trait.
Obviously I’m not arguing that only Americans suffer from insomnia, but as a nation we are undeniably prone to it. Studies reveal that roughly 60 million of my countrymen have a hard time going to sleep at night, with roughly 22 percent of the population experiencing insomnia every or almost every night. While there are a variety of medical and environmental causes that account for this, from psychological illnesses (like depression) to the burdens of modernity (like light pollution), I’d like to advance the thesis that there is one cause distinct to our country:
Americans don’t sleep because we have trained ourselves to always think about work.
Some of the greatest classics in Western sociology discussed the legendary American work ethic. Max Weber (1864-1920) attributed it to the Calvinist philosophy that took root in colonial New England and eventually permeated the entire national ethos, one which equated virtue with hard labor. Alexis de Tocqueville (1805-1859) attributed it at least partially to our cultural “taste for physical gratification,” implicitly linking our capitalist economic values with a baser acquisitive lust. Combined with a post-Great Recession economy that forces many Americans to avoid vacations out of financial necessity, the final product is a nation of frantic individuals with quite a bit on their mind.
???
It is here that I turn away from the scholarly and instead look inward, since I suspect my own experiences with insomnia are fairly standard in three respects:
1. I’m always thinking about my work.
My thoughts are always racing, but when I’m trying to sleep they race about one very specific thing—namely, my life’s work. Professionally this involves my writing career, PhD program, and various activities as a local elected official, all of which keep me with plenty to do (and thus mull over) even when I’m supposed to be taking a breather. Beyond that, however, the quietude that accompanies any genuine effort at slumber inevitably cultivates introspection, from anxious fretting about matters in my personal life to deeper existential reveries. As the night proceeds, the mental hang-ups almost always manifest themselves physically—in tics, twitches, tossing and turning, etc.
As the night proceeds, the mental hang-ups almost always manifest themselves physically—in tics, twitches, tossing and turning, etc.
Having spoken with several other insomniacs for this article, I noticed one different trend that skewed according to gender: While my female friends were more likely to be kept up at night by feedback they had received about their problems from people they trusted, my male friends tended to stay up precisely because they didn’t feel they had anyone to talk to (I’m a bit of an exception to this rule myself, since I tend to be very open with the few people I trust).
???
2. Sleep itself feels like stressful work.
When I step into bed at night, I rarely do so because I feel physically and/or mentally exhausted. If left to my own devices, my circadian rhythms would have me collect a handful of hour-and-a-half long naps throughout the course of the day instead of a single eight-hour interval. While there is nothing biologically wrong with this proclivity, it runs athwart the expectations of our 9-to-5 society, leaving me with a sense of deep unease whenever I’m not in bed sometime between 11 PM and 1 AM.
Not only does this make me incredibly anxious when I’m about to go to sleep according to the traditional schedule, but it makes me feel uneasy when I capitulate to my accumulated weariness (because never sleeping peacefully at night gets exhausting very quickly) and sneak a nap in the middle of the day. After all, I know those naps will only make it that much harder for me to feel tired late at night. In the end, I find myself grabbing short bits of sleep here and there as well as a somewhat longer stretch of sedentary wakefulness during the twilight hours.
???
3. Insomnia isn’t entirely a bad thing.
Insomnia has more than its fair share of detrimental consequences on your long-term health, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m often quite grateful for it. Many of my best articles were conceived and even written when I should have been in bed; when I’m not being quite as productive, I find that certain movies or books resonate more profoundly with me when viewed in the early AM. Most likely this is because I choose materials that either help me fully escape from reality for the two hours I plunge into it or, just as often, in some way inspire my work once I return to the real world.
When all is said and done, insomnia is to the American work ethic what obesity is to American cuisine: a trait stamped on our national character because we have such a rich and various range of options (in our work lives and eating lives, respectively) which we can indulge.
And now that I’ve killed some time writing this, let’s see if I can catch some zzz’s.