MY STORY, PART NINE (summary): Could it be?

Polyamoury, hypersomnia, representation and the freedom of exploration, expression and individuality.

I don't think I've ever written extensively about my sleeping problems, or rather awake-problems in my blog before, have I? Well, considering what I'm going to say, maybe it's about time that I do.

I've had trouble staying awake since years back, and though I'm not sure when my need of sleep started to increase and go beyond the "normal" limit I began noticing my troubles at around age 16 (2009). Every evening after school, me and my dad would watch crime series together, and every evening I would fall asleep. Of course I didn't admit it. "No, I didn't, I was just blinking" was my usual response in his attempts to wake me up. I guess I blamed it on school; after all I had just begun Upper Secondary school where grades actually mattered. I did not relate my problems to my first romantic (and monoamorous) relationship which I had entered a few months earlier.

During my first year out of three, school went fine. My (still monoamorous) relationships with my first two boyfriends - not so much. I felt like something was missing, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on, and it didn't make sense because one of my biggest dreams was having great relationships - and yet there was something boring and imprisoning about them.  In school sometimes I would fall asleep during lessons and other times I overslept. Not because I had stayed up all night, on the contrary I got an average of 8 hours of sleep a night, but since it didn't affect my grades I just thought "We'll... it'll pass." The only issue was - it didn't pass.

For my readers convenience I'll say that I entered my third, almost monoamorous relationship at the same time I began my second year in Upper Secondary school. I say almost monoamorous because this was a very experimental relationship in every way; long distance, great age-gap and above all I sometimes with my partners' consent engaged in cybersex with strangers. Apart from the long distance constricting intimacy our relationship was free and I got the chance to explore, but meanwhile it was great I had to hide it because of the age-gap. Yet after about six months together my parents found out about us, called us sick and twisted, forced us to say goodbye and grounded me for a couple of months. This at the age of no less than 17. During these months however, I was still tired in the early mornings and certain classes.

For some reason, when one relationship came to its end, another began and in the beginning of my second semester of my second year me and Fredrik fell in love. Our relationship was great, and we didn't have to endure distance between eachother. Being completely serious and hopefully everlasting - our relationship had no room for "extramartial" exploring, and considering I had grown up among norms and dreams about "the one" I set my fantasies aside. After all, sex was only sex, right? Just something extra fun, and there are more important things, right?.. As far as I was aware, there was no other lifestyle represented than monoamoury.

During my third and last year me and Fredrik moved in together. We were serious about each other so of course we wanted to get our own apartment. Our relationship was great! My sleepig problems however, they took a turn for the worse. I do not exaggerate when I say that I (the morings I didn't oversleep) came to school at 8:15, fell asleep over the desk at 8:30 and slept the whole day through with the exceptions of changing classrooms, eating lunch and performing in tests and more physical activities. The evenings were fine as long as I didn't have to read books. Things were remarkably wierd, and so I went to the school doctor as well as my local hospital to ask for help. However, as neither had any ideas what in earth could make me so tired, and considering my grades were still great - there wasn't much to do about it.

And so it continued; after my graduation I studied tradtional art for a year and slept through that as well, and thereafter I slept through my Law studies at the University of Gothenburg. (Yes i managed to get accepted with my grades only, despite sleeping through school) All the while me and my boyfriend Fredrik led a still quite happy life together. Apart from a few problems regarding our sexlife everything was fine.

Soon it came to an end. Not my sleeping problems or our relationship, but my law studies. I got caught in a depression in November of 2013 and while recovering I could more or less put my finger on what caused it; the strangling culture of my fellow "superior, feasting and bragging" upper class students. No matter how interesting I found my lectures to be, I just couldn't picture myself being a part of "The elite"... the terrible, horrible elite. Particularily not in combination with a nine-to-five (or seven-to-twelve?)-life. My valuable spare time, personality and artistic freedom would be compromised.

After six months I had feelings again. After eight I got off my antidepressants. But my dreams of working myself to death - they were gone. So was also my love for Fredrik (or atleast hidden), my sexdrive, and my igorance about modern society, with all the propaganda it includes. What was still there, although less troublesome, was my excessive need for sleep. Luckily for me the doctors treating my depression had taken my sleep seriously and I kept my hopes up of being diagnosed and cured within the near future.

Earlier mentioned sexual problems, along with my changed view on society brought on by the depression, and some minor differences of opinions eventually split my relationship in half. After almost four years together me and Fredrik broke up in late 2014. Still having no occupation, I could spend my time as single meeting strangers, sleeping 11 hours a night and building up a new, steady ground of hopes and dreams for myself. Yet something about dissatisfaction in relationships were still present - even as single. In retrospect I'm not sure I noticed it any longer; this feeling of imprisonment was just part of life since age 16, but even so - it shone through in the shape of what I think americans would call "sexual dysfunction",.. that and unhappiness.

After a spring of sexual adventures, some great but most boring (I've written quite extensively about why that is so in previous articles), I decided that maybe I hadn't choosed the wrong guy after all and during the summer of 2015 me and Fredrik decided to try  our love once more. We worked through most of our troubles, alone and with help from friends and professionals but still I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something, missing out on my own life.

What did I do? The only clue or feeling I had about "it" was that it was sexual, but I had to find out exactly what "it" was, because it was hurting my libido severely. Skipping the pill didn't help (although I will never use them again) neither did improving our relationship help as much as I'd hoped, but after half a year of soulsearching and writing a 19 pages long document about my sexual history - I found out what "it" was and on the 5th of July 2016 I told myself "I'm apparently polyamorous."

Reexamining my summer I can still remember the feeling of clarity washing over me as I realised why I had felt imprisoned in my monoamorous relationships, without ever knowing it, without ever thinking of the word "monogamy" as something that wasn't obvious for me to engage in. And now, sitting awake 04:26 in the morning on a Wednesday, one might wonder what this all has to do with the sleeping problems I wrote about in the beginning of this text. But that's just the point; Im not sleeping. I'm sitting 04:30 in the morning, fully creative, writing an article about my "so it seems-soultion."

See, ever since I re-defined my sexual orientation/relationship orientation from an unreflected "monoamorous" to the well though of "Polyamorous",.. ever since I started seeing my former FWB, and for every brave step my boyfriend, Fredrik has taken to open up our relationship and letting me explore my needs, ever since I got acceted to Cultural Studies at the University in August - I've felt less and less tired.

A few days ago I was mad about the doctors once again telling me, after three years of research, that no cause to my sleeping problems can be found. I am still sad about it; about the loss of time, possible postponent of creating a family, loss of energy to go out with friends etc, and of course I am afraid that this period of engergy and more or less normative sleep cycles is just a shortlived craze or coincidence with my newfound freedom, but writing it all down, just as I did when figuring out my orientation - writing down in all my anger about the doctors' decision, the history of my sleeping patterns, relationships, reoccuring nightmares, depression etc, in yet another 12 page-document about myself; can it be any less apparent?

Of course I could be wrong. Maybe I'll find myself sleeping with my forehead across the textbook again next month. Maybe I'm just temporarily infatuated by my encounters with my FWB, or what the poly folks would call NRE, but right now I strongly believe that My decisions of changing my life course from the modern dream of economic freedom, Law-studying, and monoamorous relationships to a dream of sexual, romatic, artistic and individual freedom as well as the freedom of time is my cure. Maybe it wasn't as odd as if first might seem, that the Bohemians of France chose the life they did. With this newfound additional insight as a background I have made the decision to write about representation and distinction in this week's exam. Maybe an upbringing of those topics might be able to save others the way I wish it had saved me.

Good morning, sleep tight.