Nights of Restlessness, Days of Exhaustion: My Battle with Insomnia

Four nights. No sleep. My body felt like it was shutting down, like I was on a slow, painful decline with no way out. In desperation, I called NHS 111, hoping for some kind of relief. They said a doctor would call me within 24 hours to prescribe sleeping tablets.

But life has a cruel sense of timing - at the 25th hour, the call finally came. And for the first time in days, I was actually asleep, phone on Do Not Disturb. When I woke up, I realized I had slept - just five hours, but it was enough to give me hope. My body wasn’t broken after all. I could sleep again.

The quality of my sleep is still far from perfect, but compared to that unbearable summer of 2024, I’ll take it.

How It All Started

Insomnia had never been a major battle for me before. Sure, I’d had the occasional restless night, but this was different. My body was screaming at me, forcing me to listen in a way I never had before.

At first, I blamed it on excitement - I was heading on holiday when I first noticed the struggle to fall asleep. The stress leading up to the trip had been intense, but I assumed the change of scenery would help. It didn’t. The first few nights were rough, but I powered through, eventually managing to sleep again.

The trip itself wasn’t exactly relaxing. My partner and I had recently gotten back together after a short breakup, and while we had talked things through, my brain refused to let it go. Overthinking. Analysing. Worrying. Even in paradise, I couldn’t escape my own thoughts.

Then, just a week after we returned, he had to leave for a work trip. That’s when things really spiralled.

The Breaking Point

The night my partner left, my daughter was unsettled. She kept waking up, refusing to sleep unless she was with me. I finally gave in and brought her to bed, hoping we’d both get some rest. But she was restless, and I was wired. I didn’t sleep at all.

The next morning, I realized she had a cold. We spent the day snuggled on the sofa, exhausted. That night, she slept fine - but I couldn’t. Not a single minute.

I spent the next day in tears. Two nights with no sleep felt unbearable. I had to take her to nursery in a taxi because I was too exhausted to function. My parents stepped in to help, and my mum stayed for a couple of nights. But sleep still didn’t come. Three nights turned into four. Then sporadic nights of broken sleep stretched into weeks.

I had developed a full-blown phobia of not sleeping. Every night, I’d think, Surely my body will give in at some point? But it didn’t.

I was crumbling.

When Insomnia Takes Over Your Life

I already had my fair share of health struggles - gut issues, chronic pain in my neck, head, and back, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue. Now, insomnia was added to the list. My symptoms exploded: tinnitus worsened, panic attacks hit hard, I lost weight rapidly without trying. I started fearing the worst - maybe I had cancer? Google was more than happy to confirm my worst fears.

I had no energy to care for my daughter, my fiancé, or myself. My body rejected food. I’d sit down to watch something in the evening, but my brain couldn’t focus on anything except what if I don’t sleep again? The fear of being awake and alone was paralyzing.

I felt completely trapped. And the most frustrating part? I was already trying to heal my nervous system. I was doing all the “right” things. But none of it seemed to work.

So, What Helped?

After weeks of despair, I came across a video from Pain Free You about being "outcome independent." The concept was simple: I needed to stop fighting sleep. Instead of obsessing over whether I’d sleep or not, I had to accept that I would be okay either way.

At first, it sounded impossible. But the more I reminded myself, I’ll survive, my body knows how to sleep, the less pressure I put on myself. And surprisingly, sleep started coming back. Slowly, inconsistently, but it was there.

I began reframing sleep as a safe place instead of something I had to chase.

The real test came when my partner had to go away again. But this time, I slept. And so did my daughter.

That was my proof - I could sleep, even when my mind tried to convince me otherwise.

Where I Am Now

I’m still healing. My nervous system is still recalibrating. I have flare-ups - gut issues, head and neck pain, ectopic heartbeats - but I’m learning not to fight them. My biggest challenge is slowing down, resisting the urge to constantly do instead of just be.

I recently pushed too hard with exercise and crashed again, so I’m learning to build up slowly. Healing isn’t about forcing change overnight. It’s about small, consistent steps. And that’s what my nervous system thrives on - consistency.

These days, instead of judging my progress, I try to stay curious. I celebrate the little wins. Because in the end, it’s those small shifts that add up to lasting change.

And now, when I lay my head down at night, I remind myself - my body knows how to sleep.