I have been having problems falling asleep for months now.

Anyone who has struggled with sleep can probably sympathize with me. It’s easy to take sleep for granted, but when it doesn’t come easily, or in enough quantity, it can dominate your mind.

It’s a simple thing, but a complicated thing; how you can veer off a healthy routine. I gave up caffeine years ago. I try to follow what’s generally considered good sleep hygiene. I sleep in a cool dark room and usually don’t entertain myself in front of a computer screen late at night.

I have tried all sorts of remedies, allopathic and alternative. I have received paid advice from health practitioners and more than a few remedies people found helpful during their own bouts of insomnia.

People have loaned me their favorite brands of melatonin, referred me to acupuncturists and have sworn by oddball tonics such as Greek yogurt and turmeric right before bed.

Expecting to have problems entering the Land of Nod, I started to dread going to bed. This led me to try other tactics. To engage my subconscious mind, I started reading in bed, keeping the light on, as if telling myself I wasn’t trying to fall asleep. I splurged on a new duvet and shams to make my bed an inviting place to be. I started meditating at night.

Was I lacking in some essential nutrients? Did I need to re-calibrate my thyroid meds? Was there a way to re-set my nighttime flow of cortisol that convinced my body I was in a dire situation when I wasn’t? I was unable to identity any subject I was obsessing over after I slipped between the sheets.

Sleep deprivation was taking its toll – on my work, on my driving, on remembering little commitments I usually take pride in getting right. Drugs that used to knock me out were not working any more. I decided to do something I rejected a long time ago; participate in a sleep study.

After a consult, I checked in to the Center for Sleep Medicine at the appointed time. Different parts of my head and body were wired to numerous monitors until I looked like The Bride of Frankenstein.

I filled out some forms and explained to my tech, Horace, yet one more time, that I would undoubtedly not fall asleep. I had gone several days without sleep and could not imagine relaxing while harnessed, as I was, with color-coded wires.

He smiled.

I slept.

The room was too cold for my liking, and I didn’t like the fact that I had to call him to unplug me so I could go to the toilet in the middle of the night. But I didn’t want to leave in the morning when I was in REM sleep. They had their data and wanted to clean the room.

I was more than surprised. I had to settle into the idea of having a different experience than the one I expected. Was there something magical in trying something I had resisted? By wearing various contraptions, did I simply increase and steady the flow of oxygen?

I don’t know what the next steps will be right now, whether I will go back to the acupuncturist or whether I will just wait until I can have a follow-up consult, but in breaking a pattern of expectations, I made a huge step.

Simply believing a new kind of experience is possible is no small thing.