A Newly Discovered Sleep Disorder

Bedtime Tail-Biting Syndrome

Dr. Seuss's little enigmatic creatures known as the Chippendale Mupp.I’d like to share a brief bedtime story – actually, a story about a bedtime story. It’s about one of Dr. Seuss’s little enigmatic creatures known as the Chippendale Mupp. The Mupp is a striped, furry being with an impossibly long tail. And just before he goes to sleep, the Mupp chomps down on the end of his tail. Seuss informs us that:

His tail is so long, he won’t feel any pain,
‘Til the nip makes the trip and gets up to his brain.
In exactly eight hours, The Chippendale Mupp
Will, at last, feel the bite and yell, “Ouch!” and wake up.

What an interesting parable about the alarm clock as a self-inflicted pain in the rear. But even more so, this is a story that calls our attention to the subtle intentions we bring to bed with us.

A National Sleep Foundation poll found that slightly more than half of all adults felt that they “needed” an alarm clock to get up in the morning. Nearly 70% of young adults aged 18 – 29 felt this way. I think of such routine dependence on alarm clocks as habitual Bedtime Tail-Biting Syndrome or BTTBS.

It’s been said that there is no hope for a civilization that starts each day to the sound of an alarm clock. Though this may be overstated, its clear that the alarm clock is a ubiquitous cultural symbol of our devaluation of sleep.  Awakening to an alarm all but guarantees that our sleep will be artificially truncated, predisposing us to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I believe that BTTBS is associated with a deeper psychological dynamic of getting down on the wrong side of the bed at night.

The wrong side of the bed is the one with all of the waking world paraphernalia next to it. Its the side of the bed that’s adjacent to the nightstand with a digital clock and lamps and phones and other things that tether us to the waking world. It’s the side of the bed you’re on when you set that alarm and your attention is drawn away from sleep and toward tomorrow’s rendezvous with waking.

Where do you go when you go to sleep?

When we get into bed, too often our intention is not so much to go to sleep, but to go through sleep — to waking. Many of us don’t set our sights on a descent into the sea of sleep, but snorkel our way across to the shore of morning awakening. Why do we do this? I think largely because we’ve forgotten how incredibly rejuvenating a night of truly deep sleep can be.

Think about where you go when you go to sleep. As you slip into bed and pull the covers up, what occupies your thoughts? What are your intentions in those moments?  And what happens to you — to your sense of self? These are important yet rarely considered questions that define our basic attitude toward and personal experience of sleep.

Getting down on the right side of the bed

I’d like to offer some suggestions that might help you break the habit of bedtime tail-biting.  First, plan to pay off any sleep debt you might be carrying and resolve to routinely get to bed at a time that will let you obtain sufficient sleep. Doing so could eliminate or reduce your need for an alarm clock. If you still feel you need to routinely set an alarm, consider some of the newer and gentler alternatives, particularly dawn simulators that awaken you gradually with increasing light.

Second, practice a mindful transition into sleep. When you slip into bed, focus on tonight’s sleep, not tomorrow’s waking. Instead of thinking about the coming morning, descend into the mystery of the present night, enjoying your swim in the sea of sleep.

Think about the process of going to sleep as a spiritual practice- a practice of surrendering your waking sense of self.  See if you can cultivate increased awareness of your experiences around falling asleep. Casually observe the myriad of thoughts, feelings, images and bodily sensations as you let go of waking. Notice their transient nature and the point where you totally surrender and dissolve into sleep.

Instead of awakening in the morning to an alarming “ouch!” — practice coming to very gradually, intentionally carrying the serenity of sleep and the enchantment of dreams with you into your new waking day.