There really needs to be more research into how age, and especially menopause, affects sleep. I have good sleep hygiene (the only step I don’t do on your list is the evening shower) and I’m still up at 3 am every morning. Gummies have proven a good solution, though I’m concerned about the lack of research around long-term use. I feel my body has aged ten years in the past three that I’ve struggled with sleep. A sleep study was inconclusive re: apnea, and I don’t feel that’s my issue. I have had better luck pushing bedtime to 11:00 pm as some suggest we do need fewer hours of sleep as we age. Yet I never feel rested in the a.m. Any search on ‘menopausal insomnia’ will show how much of an issue it is. Thanks for this info.
Restless Leg Syndrome is the WORST and I cured mine with simple Magnesium plus a Vitamin D half an hour before bed. (My best friend suggested, she's a neurologist who had restless legs!) For me, it's like a sleeping pill and I have never had such good sleeps. And, no more restless legs either. Great post Dan, thanks as always.
My contribution to this challenge: Insomnia: Nights Without Rest
Insomnia has been one of the most stubborn companions of my bipolar disorder. During hypomanic stretches, my mind races long after the lights go out. I can lie in bed exhausted but electrified, as if my brain were running on a generator no one can switch off. Thoughts pile up—projects, regrets, conversations, plans glowing in neon. The body wants rest, but the mind refuses.
In years past, I fought insomnia like a battle I should be able to win. I would toss and turn, frustrated at myself for not being able to "just relax." I'd stare at the ceiling, counting the hours until morning, worrying how groggy and useless I'd feel the next day. I blamed myself for not being disciplined enough, not strong enough, not calm enough. That spiral of blame only tightened the knot of sleeplessness.
Through Reflective Determinism, I see it differently now. My insomnia during hypomania is not a personal failing. It is caused. The biology of bipolar disorder, the chemistry of my brain, the weight of stress, the habits of thought—all converge to make sleep elusive. I could not, in those nights, have simply willed myself to rest. Knowing this doesn't make the sleeplessness pleasant, but it removes the sting of shame.
One night stands out vividly. It was 2 a.m., and I had already been in bed for four restless hours. Every muscle was tight, every thought sharp. I kept thinking about the next day at school—how I'd face a classroom full of energetic children with no sleep. The anxiety about tomorrow only deepened the insomnia. Then, in the middle of that whirlwind, reflection arose: This, too, is determined. The racing thoughts, the tightening body, the fear of morning—they were all outcomes of causes I did not author.
That recognition itself was another cause in the chain, and it softened something. I didn't fall asleep right away, but I stopped wrestling with myself. I sat up, turned on a dim light, and read a book. Eventually, I dozed off in the early morning. The next day was still hard, but the suffering was lighter because I carried less blame.
Another memory: I once spent nearly an entire week in a hypomanic state, sleeping no more than two or three hours a night. By the fourth day, I was half-delirious—jittery but exhausted. Before I understood determinism, I would have spiraled into self-punishment. But instead, I reminded myself: This is what my brain is doing right now. I did not choose this. I can only meet it as it is. That thought didn't cure the insomnia, but it shifted the tone. I stopped demanding that my body obey me. I focused instead on gentle routines—walking in the dark, sipping herbal tea, breathing slowly, even watching the stars outside my window. Those small actions became determined responses to a determined state. Often, by softening around the condition, I eventually slide into a few hours of rest.
What I've learned is that insomnia is not unique to bipolar disorder. It is a widespread struggle, affecting millions. Some are kept awake by anxiety, others by pain, others by the relentless blue glow of screens. Modern life itself is fertile ground for sleeplessness—our nervous systems flooded by stimulation, our schedules stretched thin, our bodies wired by caffeine and stress.
And like me in my hypomanic states, most people add blame to the burden. They lie awake thinking: Why can't I sleep? What's wrong with me? Tomorrow will be ruined. The self-reproach becomes another cause feeding the insomnia. Reflective Determinism offers a different frame: sleeplessness is not a choice. It is caused—by biology, stress, habit, environment. You could not, in this moment, have done otherwise. That recognition loosens the knot.
Managing insomnia through Reflective Determinism has meant shifting from control to compassion. I still try the practical steps—a dark, cool room, regular rhythms, meditation before bed. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. The crucial difference is this: when they don't, I no longer see it as my fault. I see it as the outcome of conditions. That perspective alone eases the suffering, even if it doesn't guarantee sleep.
Insomnia is one of the hardest tests of reflective practice because it strips us of control at our most vulnerable. Yet it's also one of the clearest demonstrations of Reflective Determinism: sleep, like everything else, is caused. We cannot force it—but reflection, when it arises, can soften the night. The body may still be restless, the mind still racing, but the heart can yield. And sometimes, in that softening, sleep arrives—not as a prize won through effort, but as the inevitable unfolding of causes finally aligned.
Exercise
The next time you find yourself lying awake, instead of fighting for sleep, whisper inwardly: This sleeplessness is caused. I could not be otherwise right now. Then allow yourself one gentle activity—reading, breathing, or simply watching the night sky—that acknowledges your state without blame.
Takeaway
Insomnia is rarely solved by willpower. It is caused by countless conditions—biology, stress, environment, mood. Reflective Determinism softens the suffering by removing self-blame and meeting the night as it is. Reflection itself becomes a cause that eases the weight of wakefulness.
Thank you very much for this post. I agree that self-blame and shame intensify our distress about insomnia (and other stuff we can't control), and that relinquishing judgments and self-compassion are key.
Why are we so convinced neuroscience is our sacred look at life? Or is neuroscience just a secular look which at this time is popular, even though it is fleeting and incomplete?
I was just wondering why. I respect your efforts to understand.
Please take everything I say about RLS with a grain of salt. I am not a physician and this is not medical advice. But here’s what I have learned from my doctors. The first step is iron supplementation. I, under the advice of my doctors, paired that with gabapentin. Which has been helpful, but has had, for me, some side effects (grogginess, crankiness). We have also added in trazodone, which has been near miraculous for me. But again, please talk to your doctor. Every patient is different.
always love being reminded of all the things i can do to improve my sleep. would you also include the things for restless legs, if there are any in particular, dan? thank you, jude
What stands out to me about sleep is that it’s not just another wellness lever. It’s the one that determines how well all the others work.
You can eat well, exercise, and manage stress, but without sleep, the body and mind don’t adapt the way they’re supposed to.
Protecting sleep isn’t just good hygiene. It’s foundational to overall wellness.
Perfect timing. This is a new challenge for me. I can usually sleep anywhere anytime. Not since, ironically, I started CPAP therapy 6 months ago.
There really needs to be more research into how age, and especially menopause, affects sleep. I have good sleep hygiene (the only step I don’t do on your list is the evening shower) and I’m still up at 3 am every morning. Gummies have proven a good solution, though I’m concerned about the lack of research around long-term use. I feel my body has aged ten years in the past three that I’ve struggled with sleep. A sleep study was inconclusive re: apnea, and I don’t feel that’s my issue. I have had better luck pushing bedtime to 11:00 pm as some suggest we do need fewer hours of sleep as we age. Yet I never feel rested in the a.m. Any search on ‘menopausal insomnia’ will show how much of an issue it is. Thanks for this info.
Restless Leg Syndrome is the WORST and I cured mine with simple Magnesium plus a Vitamin D half an hour before bed. (My best friend suggested, she's a neurologist who had restless legs!) For me, it's like a sleeping pill and I have never had such good sleeps. And, no more restless legs either. Great post Dan, thanks as always.
The neurological dept at University of Iowa offers a free class called Brain Boosters. I took it and learned so much.
My contribution to this challenge: Insomnia: Nights Without Rest
Insomnia has been one of the most stubborn companions of my bipolar disorder. During hypomanic stretches, my mind races long after the lights go out. I can lie in bed exhausted but electrified, as if my brain were running on a generator no one can switch off. Thoughts pile up—projects, regrets, conversations, plans glowing in neon. The body wants rest, but the mind refuses.
In years past, I fought insomnia like a battle I should be able to win. I would toss and turn, frustrated at myself for not being able to "just relax." I'd stare at the ceiling, counting the hours until morning, worrying how groggy and useless I'd feel the next day. I blamed myself for not being disciplined enough, not strong enough, not calm enough. That spiral of blame only tightened the knot of sleeplessness.
Through Reflective Determinism, I see it differently now. My insomnia during hypomania is not a personal failing. It is caused. The biology of bipolar disorder, the chemistry of my brain, the weight of stress, the habits of thought—all converge to make sleep elusive. I could not, in those nights, have simply willed myself to rest. Knowing this doesn't make the sleeplessness pleasant, but it removes the sting of shame.
One night stands out vividly. It was 2 a.m., and I had already been in bed for four restless hours. Every muscle was tight, every thought sharp. I kept thinking about the next day at school—how I'd face a classroom full of energetic children with no sleep. The anxiety about tomorrow only deepened the insomnia. Then, in the middle of that whirlwind, reflection arose: This, too, is determined. The racing thoughts, the tightening body, the fear of morning—they were all outcomes of causes I did not author.
That recognition itself was another cause in the chain, and it softened something. I didn't fall asleep right away, but I stopped wrestling with myself. I sat up, turned on a dim light, and read a book. Eventually, I dozed off in the early morning. The next day was still hard, but the suffering was lighter because I carried less blame.
Another memory: I once spent nearly an entire week in a hypomanic state, sleeping no more than two or three hours a night. By the fourth day, I was half-delirious—jittery but exhausted. Before I understood determinism, I would have spiraled into self-punishment. But instead, I reminded myself: This is what my brain is doing right now. I did not choose this. I can only meet it as it is. That thought didn't cure the insomnia, but it shifted the tone. I stopped demanding that my body obey me. I focused instead on gentle routines—walking in the dark, sipping herbal tea, breathing slowly, even watching the stars outside my window. Those small actions became determined responses to a determined state. Often, by softening around the condition, I eventually slide into a few hours of rest.
What I've learned is that insomnia is not unique to bipolar disorder. It is a widespread struggle, affecting millions. Some are kept awake by anxiety, others by pain, others by the relentless blue glow of screens. Modern life itself is fertile ground for sleeplessness—our nervous systems flooded by stimulation, our schedules stretched thin, our bodies wired by caffeine and stress.
And like me in my hypomanic states, most people add blame to the burden. They lie awake thinking: Why can't I sleep? What's wrong with me? Tomorrow will be ruined. The self-reproach becomes another cause feeding the insomnia. Reflective Determinism offers a different frame: sleeplessness is not a choice. It is caused—by biology, stress, habit, environment. You could not, in this moment, have done otherwise. That recognition loosens the knot.
Managing insomnia through Reflective Determinism has meant shifting from control to compassion. I still try the practical steps—a dark, cool room, regular rhythms, meditation before bed. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. The crucial difference is this: when they don't, I no longer see it as my fault. I see it as the outcome of conditions. That perspective alone eases the suffering, even if it doesn't guarantee sleep.
Insomnia is one of the hardest tests of reflective practice because it strips us of control at our most vulnerable. Yet it's also one of the clearest demonstrations of Reflective Determinism: sleep, like everything else, is caused. We cannot force it—but reflection, when it arises, can soften the night. The body may still be restless, the mind still racing, but the heart can yield. And sometimes, in that softening, sleep arrives—not as a prize won through effort, but as the inevitable unfolding of causes finally aligned.
Exercise
The next time you find yourself lying awake, instead of fighting for sleep, whisper inwardly: This sleeplessness is caused. I could not be otherwise right now. Then allow yourself one gentle activity—reading, breathing, or simply watching the night sky—that acknowledges your state without blame.
Takeaway
Insomnia is rarely solved by willpower. It is caused by countless conditions—biology, stress, environment, mood. Reflective Determinism softens the suffering by removing self-blame and meeting the night as it is. Reflection itself becomes a cause that eases the weight of wakefulness.
Thank you very much for this post. I agree that self-blame and shame intensify our distress about insomnia (and other stuff we can't control), and that relinquishing judgments and self-compassion are key.
Why are we so convinced neuroscience is our sacred look at life? Or is neuroscience just a secular look which at this time is popular, even though it is fleeting and incomplete?
I was just wondering why. I respect your efforts to understand.
What did you do for restless legs treatment?
Please take everything I say about RLS with a grain of salt. I am not a physician and this is not medical advice. But here’s what I have learned from my doctors. The first step is iron supplementation. I, under the advice of my doctors, paired that with gabapentin. Which has been helpful, but has had, for me, some side effects (grogginess, crankiness). We have also added in trazodone, which has been near miraculous for me. But again, please talk to your doctor. Every patient is different.
always love being reminded of all the things i can do to improve my sleep. would you also include the things for restless legs, if there are any in particular, dan? thank you, jude
Good reminders! Thank you, young man.