When I’m not on a restriction high, I actually sleep better when I’m not eating. I fall asleep quicker, I sleep both longer and deeper, and it takes longer to wake up in the morning. For once, I actually feel exhausted when I close my eyes, but only because my body hasn’t had enough fuel and is naturally shutting down faster than it would if I were eating enough.
At 15, I remember lying down on the floor, up against my tie-dyed bean bag chair, with a space heater up against me as I shivered and watched Dawson’s Creek. Or I tried to watch Dawson’s Creek. As soon as 9:00 PM would roll around, my eyes would start fluttering closed, my limbs would feel heavy, my breathing would be slow. I would be in the middle of a six day fast, and as much as I wanted to see what happened between Dawson and Joey, I would fall asleep to the hum of the heater, keeping me warm until I woke up about an hour later and had to drag myself into bed.
It freaks me out sometimes. When I don’t hear my husband getting ready in the morning. I sleep right through it when I haven’t been eating. For some reason I associate deep sleep with death, and I’m afraid that the one time I sleep like a baby, I won’t wake up to see the sun.