Only in retrospect did I realize how common unhealthy sleep had been all around me throughout my life. For example, such microsleeps – one of the main symptoms of insufficient sleep:
My father probably didn’t watch a single movie without dozing off in his entire life, we used to giggle at my uncle, whose head could immediately pop off for a few seconds calmly even while standing or right after he asked someone something. Once while visiting us, he fell asleep so soundly that we couldn’t wake him up, and stayed up late into the night in our living room chair long after everyone else had left. It is a funny family incident.
In the same way, snoring was always made light of – if it was already discussed between women that he had dusted her entire forest again at night, then only from the position of “oh, poor thing, she didn’t sleep again”, never from the point that she is suffering in the first place the one who snores. I heard about sleep apnea, a disease of snorers, in which they basically suffocate dozens of times a night, for the first time only recently.
Then there was a group of people around me who always liked to say that four to five hours of sleep is enough for them, that they don’t need more.
It is no wonder that for many years I also perceived my poor sleep as something quite normal. At first it used to be evening insomnia, inability to fall asleep, then waking up at night. And then waking up in the morning before the alarm clock, but often if not with a headache, then always without mood and energy. Subsequently, hectoliters of coffee during the day so that I can somehow function. And snoring at night, which the wife described as a life-and-death struggle.
None of that—not even the fact that people often told me I had bloodshot eyes and circles under them—was enough to prove to me that I should