Learning to Sleep Again: How Rest Became Part of My Recovery

For a long time, I treated sleep like an optional suggestion.

If I was exhausted, anxious, doom-scrolling my phone, or replaying old mistakes in my head, I’d just say, “I’ll be fine. I don’t need that much sleep anyway.” Then I’d drag myself through the next day on caffeine, sugar, and pure anxiety.

Spoiler: I was not fine.

Between mental health stuff (PTSD, depression, ADHD), diabetes, and recovery, bad sleep made everything harder:

My mood was all over the place
Cravings hit harder
My patience was paper-thin
My blood sugar was more unpredictable
Focusing on anything felt like trying to read through fog

Eventually I had to admit it: I didn’t just “have trouble sleeping.” I had a sleep problem.

This is how I started fixing it—with proper medication, time management, and a lot of honesty with myself.

Why Sleep Actually Matters (More Than I Wanted to Admit)

We live in a world that treats sleep like it’s lazy.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
“Grind now, rest later.”
“Real men don’t need 8 hours.”

Yeah, okay. Meanwhile:

Your brain is trying to heal and process trauma
Your body is trying to regulate blood sugar
Your emotions are trying not to explode on people you love
Your recovery is hanging on by a thread some days

Sleep isn’t a luxury. It’s basic maintenance.

When I was running on 3–4 hours of broken sleep:

My depression felt heavier
My ADHD symptoms were worse—racing thoughts, no focus
My anxiety went up, and little problems felt like huge disasters
I was way more tempted to escape—food, scrolling, old habits

Once I started getting consistent sleep, I noticed:

My mood wasn’t magically perfect, but it was more steady
I could catch my thoughts before they spiraled
I handled stress better—no instant meltdown over small stuff
I had more energy to actually show up for my own life

Sleep didn’t fix everything. But without it, nothing else really had a chance to work.

Step One: Admitting My Sleep Was Part of My Mental Health

For a long time, I treated my sleep like it was separate from everything else.

I had labels for my struggles:

PTSD
Depression
ADHD
Addiction
Diabetes

But sleep? I just wrote it off as “I’m a night owl” or “My brain won’t shut up.”

The truth was:

Staying up late was sometimes avoidance
The phone, TV, and overthinking were ways to not sit with my feelings
I’d say “I can’t sleep” when really, I had no routine and no boundaries

The turning point came when I got honest with my therapists and doctors. I stopped saying:

“Yeah, I’m tired, but it’s whatever.”

And started saying:

“I’m not sleeping. It’s affecting my mood, my cravings, and my days. I need help.”

That honesty opened the door.

Step Two: Getting Proper Medication (With Real Professional Help)

I’m not going to name specific meds—that’s between you and your doctor—but I will say this:

The right medication made a difference.

For me, that looked like:

Talking openly with my doctor about how long it took to fall asleep
Being honest about waking up through the night
Sharing how my ADHD and depression played into it
Letting them know how my sleep (or lack of it) was affecting my recovery and my diabetes

We made adjustments:

To what I took
When I took it
And how it all connected with the rest of my meds

Important part:
I did not just start popping random sleep aids on my own. I had already tried the “self-medication” route with alcohol. I know where that road goes.

This time, I wanted to do it right:

No guessing
No mixing things I shouldn’t
No lying about what I was really taking

If you’re struggling with sleep, I’d really encourage you: talk to a doctor or psychiatrist you trust. You deserve actual help, not just “You’ll be fine” and another night of staring at the ceiling.

Step Three: Time Management – Teaching Myself a Bedtime (Again)

Medication alone wasn’t enough. I had to actually respect my bedtime like a grown-up.

Here’s what started helping:

1. Setting a “Wind-Down” Time

Instead of going from full-blast TV/phone straight to bed, I gave myself a landing strip.

About an hour before bed: I try to slow things down
I turn off anything that pulls my brain into overdrive (loud shows, intense conversations, heavy topics)
I aim for calmer stuff—music, light reading, prayer, journaling

2. Making My Bedroom Less of a Chaos Zone

I used to treat my room like a mix of:

Movie theater
Food court
Office
Panic room

Now I try to make it more like a place for rest:

Less clutter
Lights dimmer at night
Phone not shoved in my face until I pass out

3. Planning My Mornings So I’m Not Dreading Them

Part of why I stayed up late was because I was dreading the next day.

So I started doing small things:

Laying out clothes for work
Glancing at what tomorrow looks like so I’m not ambushed in the morning
Setting realistic expectations instead of “Tomorrow I will fix my whole life”

The less I feared the morning, the easier it was to let go of the night.

4. Having a “Last Call” for Screens

This one is still a work in progress, but I’m trying to:

Not fall asleep with my phone in my hand
Not go down YouTube or social media rabbit holes when I should be winding down
Use my phone for calmer stuff if I have to—like a Bible app, a verse, or a quiet playlist

What My Nights Look Like Now (Most Days, Anyway)

I’m not perfect. I still have rough nights. Life is life.

But more often than not, my evenings look like this:

I aim for a set bedtime instead of just crashing whenever
I take my meds when I’m supposed to
I slow the day down on purpose—not just because I ran out of energy
I talk to God about what’s heavy instead of trying to out-think it alone
I remind myself: “Rest is not lazy. Rest is recovery.”

And the mornings?

I wake up less angry at the world
My thoughts are a little quieter
My body doesn’t feel like it got hit by a truck
I have a real chance to make good choices that day, instead of survival mode from the second my eyes open

If You’re Struggling With Sleep Right Now

If your nights are all over the place, here’s what I’d gently suggest:

Be honest with yourself
Is this “I just can’t sleep,” or is this also anxiety, trauma, or avoidance?
Talk to a professional
Doctor, psychiatrist, therapist—tell them the truth about how you’re sleeping.
Make one small change at a time
Earlier bedtime by 15–30 minutes, a short wind-down routine, reducing screens right before bed.
Remember that you’re not weak for needing rest
Your brain, body, and spirit are doing a lot. They deserve recovery time, too.

You don’t have to fix your whole life tonight.

Maybe tonight the win is:

Taking your meds as prescribed
Turning off the TV a little earlier
Saying a simple prayer like, “God, help me rest.”
Letting yourself believe you are worth that rest

I’m still learning. I still mess up. But I can tell you this with full honesty:

Life, recovery, faith, and mental health are all easier to fight for when I’m not running on two hours of sleep and a fake smile.

You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to get help.
You’re allowed to make sleep part of your healing, not just an afterthought.

Thanks for reading.

— Josh Bridges