writers and insomnia


John Elder wrote in the Age this morning about how often sleep disorders are wrongly diagnosed. One of the interesting points in the piece related to questions of causality in insomnia and mental illness: insomnia tends to get treated as a symptom of depression rather than the other way around.

Anyway, it made me wonder about the number of writers you run into who suffer from crippling insomnia. When you think about it, writing seems to be designed to prevent you from ever sleeping. It’s a job that’s never finished, so you always go to bed thinking about what you’re supposed to be working on. It encourages all the habits you are supposed to avoid: a sedentary lifestyle, caffeine, alcohol, etc. And most people do it on top of another job, and so the perpetual struggle to find time means lots of early mornings and late nights.

Of course, the Australasian Sleep Association claims that 80 per cent of Australians experience an issue with sleeping that adversely affects their waking life, so it may well be that writers are no more tired than the rest of the nation. Personally, though, I’m perpetually thinking that, if only I get a good night’s sleep, I’ll suddenly be writing pages upon pages of luminous prose. And then, of course, it happens — and it doesn’t make the slightest difference.

Jeff Sparrow

Jeff Sparrow is a writer, editor, broadcaster and Walkley award-winning journalist. He is a former columnist for Guardian Australia, a former Breakfaster at radio station 3RRR, and a past editor of Overland. His most recent book is a collaboration with Sam Wallman called Twelve Rules for Strife (Scribe). He works at the Centre for Advancing Journalism at the University of Melbourne.

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  1. There are so many different kinds of sleeplessness. I actually know that my writing is going well if I can’t sleep, that is, the book is so alive for me I’m working away and it’s very productive. I end up feeling quite cheerful the next day – but impossible to work conventional hours when you’re in this phase of writing so I can only go with that ‘creativity’ if I’m on a writer’s retreat and can just write and nap whenever the mood takes me. There is no doubt this is disorientating and I sometimes feel that courting this phase of the process is courting madness.

    And, of course, there are a whole lot more prosaic reasons not to be sleeping which have no up side at all.

  2. It is interesting that you point this out; I cannot sleep at night because I forgot how to sleep. I cannot identify the problem exactly but, I have been sleep deprived for months and have had insomnia off and on for a year pretty badly. It is almost like sleep is defying rationality. I cannot think of a solution of how to sleep other than to not think about it which for me is impossible. If I tell myself to calm down, it is ultimately getting to the point of not thinking about it. I that I am told to lose my consciousness against my will which is what sleep is to me. But at the same time I get nervous staying awake for so long. This contradiction is deadly. But, I am not in the state to think or naively and in an uneducated manner philosophize about sleep and my beliefs. Insomnia has left me an idiot trying to find a solution.If anyone has any insight or comments about this I would really be grateful for it.

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