This is for anyone who has ever been told they are too sensitive. 

The term highly sensitive person (HSP) was coined by clinical psychologist Elaine Aron, who began researching high sensitivity back in 1991. It’s an innate trait said to occur in 15-20% of the population. HSPs tend to feel things deeply, are empathetic, notice subtleties, and have what Elain Aron calls a ‘rich, complex inner life.’ They are not disordered - they are simply higher on the sensitivity spectrum. As such, they may have different needs than those who are less sensitive. 

Many HSPs grew up hearing they were “too sensitive,” often from parents or other adults in their lives. This can lead to internalized shame—a belief that something is inherently wrong with you.

If you’ve ever struggled with sleep, chances are you’ve tried a ton of remedies. It’s natural to search for quick fixes, like supplements, routines, and tips. But, there’s a downside: all these so-called solutions can fall into a category called "sleep efforts," a term I picked up from physician-turned-insomnia-specialist Daniel Erichsen. Sleep efforts are simply anything we do to force sleep to happen.

They might seem harmless and the zeitgeist of our times is partly to blame. Arguably, we live in a world that pushes a ‘fix it’ mentality. Mainstream insomnia advice tells us to try melatonin, stick to strict routines, and avoid screens before bed. On the surface, it sounds logical, doesn’t it?

Sleep efforts can be tricky though, because they shift the power to external things—like supplements or routines. This subtly send the message that your ability to sleep depends on them.

Insomnia can feel like its own breed of suffering, leaving you feeling trapped and restless. It can send your mind whirling, searching for answers: Did I drink too much coffee? Was that too much screen time before bed? Did I mess up my sleep hygiene routine?

The truth is, none of these are why you have insomnia. For years, I obsessively tried to identify every variable impacting sleep, unaware that fuelling my need to fix it all along. (I seem to be a slow learner when it comes to insomnia).

As for myself, I was wary of the horror genre, convinced it would be too overwhelming. Eventually curiosity took over, as I gently creaked the door open to the demonic realms, gradually exposing myself to more intense terror with time. Eventually, it graduated from a fun, adrenaline-fuelled form of entertainment to something more, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. I’ve since heard similar sentiments from clients and friends, many of whom are trauma survivors. This post aims to explore the reasons why horror movies can be healing, both from my clinical perspective as a trauma therapist and a horror fan.

Part of why people often have unhelpful advice for insomniacs, is because conventional wisdom is based on a false belief that sleep issues need to be ‘fixed’ in the same way you might fix a car. But alas, the human psyche is more complex than this, and insomnia itself is a paradox - the more you try and ‘fix’ it, the worse it often gets. This knowledge is not yet in the mainstream though, so many people are understandably acting based on this outdated ‘fix it’ model.

It’s natural to want to eliminate self-sabotage because it hinders progress. By developing curiosity towards it though, there is often at least a kernel of wisdom to be found. In a podcast I admire, This Jungian Life, the hosts discuss the wisdom embedded in self-sabotage.  

Sometimes it is coming from an intuitive place, sending us a message that we are out of alignment, and it’s our job to listen to that. Imagine you get into your first choice for law school, but you just can’t bring yourself to sign the acceptance letter. Upon further exploration, it becomes clear that deep down, you don’t really want to become a lawyer - it was what your parents expected of you, but not something you ever wanted to pursue. 

This is part of the reason it is so important to hear this part of us out, rather than dismiss it or try to fight with it. Even when it is not purely coming from a place of wisdom, it is still worth hearing out because it allows us to befriend our shadow and it helps illuminate what may have previously been more subconscious. So, even if this part of us is misguided, it often has good intentions.

Ever find yourself lying awake, heart racing, mind spinning, feeling wired but desperate for sleep? If so then you have experienced a powerful force known as hyperarousal. Hyperarousal, a heightened state of alertness that sends the body into fight or flight, goes hand in hand with insomnia. It can show up as:

• Anxiety and Racing Thoughts: my clients often share how their thoughts and emotions spiral when they’re in fight or flight mode. 

• Difficulty Concentrating: Trouble focusing or thinking clearly - this can make it a lot harder to have a more grounded perspective.

• Physiological Symptoms: Body twitching or spasms, tightness in muscles, jaw clenching, rapid heart rate, and even needing to urinate more frequently can be signs of hyperarousal.

Without a thorough understanding of insomnia, it is natural to focus all your attention on how to get more sleep. Focusing on sleep is often actually part of the problem though, since it itends to be driven by fear. Had I realized this earlier on in my struggles, I may have not spent years spinning my wheels. Although better sleep is what everyone with insomnia wants, getting that does not necessarily mean that your insomnia will be healed. If the fear still remains, any disruption to sleep again could trigger the insomnia to come back. This is why it can continue for so long.

As an insomnia coach, therapist and recovered insomniac, below I explore why focusing primarily on sleep is not the most effective approach to recovery and where to shift your focus instead.

In buddhism, a bardo specifically refers to the transition period between life and death. In practice though, our whole life can be seen as a bardo with a beginning, middle and end. If you apply that concept on a micro level, you can even start to use the concept of a bardo as a metaphor for the various events in a single day. As Pema Chodron elucidates, ‘we are always in a bardo because impermanence never takes a break.’ (p. 12).

One benefit to this practice is if I can really be with the moment by viewing it as a whole lifetime, I might be enamored, grateful or joyous for things which I previously took for granted.

It’s so normal for the brain to go berserk when you can’t sleep. It is, after all, a survival machine, and it likes to send out alerts that insomnia is a threat. This often shows up in all kinds of stories the mind creates about the experience of insomnia. Some common ones I experienced include: ‘This is never going to end, ‘Am I going crazy? ‘, ‘Am I going to die?’ or ‘Will I be stuck in this misery forever? You get the idea. While these stories may seem dramatic, they feel very real in the moment. 

When you're struggling with insomnia, your nervous system is often in a state of hyperarousal, affecting the functioning of your prefrontal cortex. We need the prefrontal cortex to think more clearly, exercise good judgment and learn from experience. So, it’s very understandable and common to get caught up in the fears, and believe that they are true.

Insomnia is a paradox. The more you try to fix it, either the worse it gets, or the more you feel dependent on the supplement, medication, gadget, ritual, or routine that seems to be temporarily helping in that moment. This insight - that the attempts to fix are often perpetuating the problem - was a big turning point in my healing process. The information was empowering: it was only in giving up control and accepting my reality as it was that I could regain my sleep back. Rather than react from a place of fear, I learned to address the fear layer by layer, until the worries about sleep no longer existed.

I have learned from my own experience and supporting others, that there are tangible steps one can take on the road to acceptance-based insomnia recovery. It often is not a dramatic, single moment of healing, but rather, involves shedding the layers of fear gradually.