![]() ![]() Now I can’t concentrate on a book with a screen beside me. Back then I imagined adulthood as a time when nobody would come between me and reading. My mother paid the library fine and confiscated the lamp, so I started using a torch. When I was about seven, and struggling to stay awake, I propped a Goosebumps on my lampshade “just to rest” – then woke to find a brown crisp circle burnt from the middle of the spine. As a kid, I didn’t fight for sleep, but fought it. But I read every night as a child, before my insomnia developed in my teens. My pile of potential solutions is not strictly compliant with sleep hygiene, which says you should do no “awake” activity in bed. (“Unbelievable scenes in Rochester’s attic!”) And I made one simple rule: phone goes into a kitchen drawer before bed, and does not come out until morning. I marshalled bedside resources: alarm clock, sudoku, pens, notebooks, British Vogue, Penguin Classics too antiquated for me to feel any compulsion to text the group chat. Whoever gifted me with rationality should have enclosed a receipt, because I would happily exchange it for the ability to fly.īut this year my insomnia got so bad that I snapped. The longer I put off trying a no-phone regime, the more regret I would feel, which meant I procrastinated further – and so on. Until recently, I chose to ignore this theory because I feared it would be proven correct and I’d wish I’d done something sooner. ![]() When that happens in bed, I’ll get less sleep. As a person with ADHD, I am especially short on dopamine, and if I train my body to expect a spoonful then I’ll stay alert to receive it. For a long time, I have known that phones interfere with sleep. ![]()
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