As human beings going through something as difficult as insomnia, it’s completely natural to want assurance that we can make it to the other side. We long for the end of our suffering and the sweet peace of mind that follows.
💬 People often ask me these forecasting questions: "When do you think I’ll start seeing results? Can you reassure me that I will reach recovery at some point? How long do you think I have to keep doing this work?"
I would love to predict the future and give you the most accurate answers, but the truth is – I can’t answer these questions, and neither can you!
A big part of recovery is becoming comfortable with not knowing, not having guarantees, and staying with the uncertainty. And let me tell you, our control-loving mind will not like that for a long time!
When I struggled with insomnia, there were fewer resources and success stories than there are today, and I had absolutely no clue whether recovery was possible and to what extent. I was in the dark, just as you might be now.
But I took the risk of the unknown because I realized that the old ways of dealing with insomnia – through control and effort – only brought me more suffering. The new way of seeing, thinking, and acting didn’t offer any guarantees either, but unlike the old way that 100% led me to suffering eventually, there was potential for something new and better to emerge. But it took that chance anyway.
Coming to terms with uncertainty, being able to bear it and continuing to live our lives despite it is a part of the recovery process. Demanding certainty, promises, and guarantees keeps our journey stuck because such assurances can never be granted.
My post-recovery life remains full of uncertainties:
I still have no clue what my next night will look like.
I have no idea if I’ll sleep well before a big event.
I don’t know if a speed bump will ever show up in my life again.
When going to bed, there’s no way for me to know how long it will take to fall asleep or whether I’ll wake up throughout the night.
I had to make peace with all of these uncertainties and accept my limitations as a human being. Only through this acceptance have I found less and less need to engage in the avoidance and safety behaviors that created and perpetuated the insomnia cycle for me.
What’s my sleep like now? It’s actually the same as it was before insomnia – neither better nor worse, exactly where I left it. It just happens; sometimes quickly, sometimes it takes a while, sometimes interrupted, sometimes solid, but overall it’s peaceful and effortless like it used to be. I take no measures to secure my sleep and seek no reassurance – it’s pointless anyway, as I’ve come to see it.
I understand that this might feel like an unsatisfying answer to some of you (“Where are the stats??”), especially if there’s still work to be done in understanding the intricacies of the insomnia paradox. And that’s okay! I believe that there is a right timing for everything.
There is nothing wrong with liking certainty, and we can admit that. But when we’re about to ask, “When will recovery happen for me?”, it can help to ask ourselves a counter-question: “What part of me wants to know that?” It might be the part that has been keeping the problem intact. Can we let the question stay unanswered? 🤔
And the last thought I want to leave you with today: sleep, as a natural body function, doesn’t require certainty or guarantees. Our brain may crave that assurance, but it doesn’t need it. Think of babies who have never received any instructions on how to sleep, who never ponder whether sleep will come or not – they sleep when they sleep, and when they don’t, they don’t.
Hope you found some value in this letter ❤️
Will see you next time!
Ali
P.S. Posted a new video on the channel! 🙂
Loved this teaching. I am slowly arriving at this point of acceptance and letting go of emotional attachments to sleep. Yours words bring clarity. Thank you!