Pillow, blanket, toothbrush…
I can’t forget my Bible.
I marked off the mental checklist running through my mind while wandering around my room packing my bag for my weekend away. Naturally, I love the idea of going to a women’s retreat, there’s just one small problem.
I’m neurotic about my sleep.
Jesus and My Fan… A Story about What Matters in Life
I promise I’m not just high maintenance. You see, about 18 years ago, when I started having severe anxiety and depression, I went through what I now affectionately call, “my breakdown.”
At the time I was a 21-year-old woman, reduced to the status of a little girl. I was frightened by almost everything and didn’t sleep for 4 days straight and struggled with sleep from then on. Night time was just, well, hard.
I have come a long way, but as with any trauma, scars remain…
Being out of my comfort zone and sleeping in a strange place is a struggle for me. Because of this, I like things a particular way when I sleep:
- MY bed
- A dark room with one, maybe two night-lights
- The room can’t be too hot
- Did I mention my bed?
- Last but NEVER least, a fan. I must always have a fan.
(I know, I know, you’re questioning that whole “high maintenance” thing about now.)
You could probably put me to sleep at most any time of day by switching on a fan. I may possibly appear to be a narcoleptic at that moment. And supposing people came with an instruction manual, mine would simply say:
Wake me up? Turn off my fan.