The 4am Visitor
Slowly, you roll over and look at the clock. "Oh good, it's 4am. I have more time to sleep," you say to yourself. Then you realize you have to go to the bathroom - a risky proposition because sleep is a valuable commodity these days. You know that if you go to the bathroom, you run the potential of running into your 4 am Visitor: The What Were You, Thinking Monger. You stumble to the bathroom, careful not to think about anything, run into anything or wake up more than necessary. As you lay back down, thinking that you have successfully dodged the enemy, you have a flashing thought of the party you went to the previous night, and it starts.
"What were you thinking wearing that dress? You looked like you were begging for attention!"
"I can't believe you said ____ to Mary. She is going to think you are a freak!"
"You totally should have said more to the host. You are so rude!"
As you lay there swimming in thought, your breath quickens, your skin gets clammy, and your chest tightens. Finally, you pull yourself out of bed, knowing sleep is futile at this point.
The 4 am Visitor is ruthless. It is one thing to deal with our Monger during the day when we are at full capacity, but at night, our defenses are down, and we are caught off guard. We have a more difficult time separating truth from reality at night, so the messages seem even more powerful and accurate.
Earlier this week, I was visited by the 4am Visitor. I spun off for a while and let her just hammer me. My heart was racing, I was freaking out about stuff I had said and done earlier that day, and I was falling for her words, hook line, and sinker. I was just about ready to give up and head down to turn on the TV when I thought: "Wait a minute, is this even true?"
That brief thought turned the What were you thinking Monger on her toes, but she quickly replied, "Of course!" and spun the story one more time back to how terrible I had been.
But by asking myself, "Is that true?" I created a gap between her and me. I could recognize that she was no longer my voice. She was the voice of the 4am Visitor. After creating that gap, I worked to change my thoughts. She was persistent, but, each time her voice filled my brain, I shifted to one of my go-to thoughts.
My go-to thoughts are those thoughts I use to help myself fall asleep such as:
naming the 50 states
naming the presidents
walking through your high school, college dorm, or familiar place
replaying a fun vacation
reliving a fun day
Eventually (and much quicker than I thought possible), I fell asleep. When I woke up the following day, I was thrilled that I had successfully turned off my 4am Visitor.