Turn Off the Alarm Clock
How and why people with anxiety or PTSD should consider ditching the alarm
For the last year I have existed without an alarm clock, with very few exceptions. What started out as a very casual idea, ended up having a ripple effect that took my healing journey to the next level.
Why did I have the idea to turn my alarm off in the first place? Last summer I had a little more free time than I anticipated. My full-time job was ending, the pandemic still had a lot of our schedules more open than we were used to, and my son was out of school. For 10 days I didn’t “need” an alarm, an opportunity that wouldn’t come along often.
I never had an alarm on the weekend, but I always attributed my “better mood” to the fact that it was, well, the weekend. I never saw the connection. If you had asked me before this experiment if I even needed an alarm, I would have said “Without a doubt, absolutely”. My usual wake-up routine was to get up about an hour before my alarm goes off, dread the sound of the alarm, become suddenly exhausted 10 minutes before the alarm goes off, and then be jolted awake from a deep sleep by the blaring alarm (even though I had the volume as low as possible and on the most gentle sound tone I could find). In my mind, I absolutely needed the alarm because without it, I would stay in that deep sleep for who-knows-how-long.
Then the experiment. What planned to last for about 10 days… has now gone on for about 13 months and counting. I noticed almost immediately that I always wake up before I need to. Anywhere from 6:30–7:30am — regardless of what time I go to sleep. But now there was no dreading the alarm. No eventual exhaustion before it’s time to get up. I just stayed awake…
I not only stayed awake, but I was in a good mood. My husband is a morning person and I have always resented him for it: alert, spry, working out in the wee hours of the morning and ready to take on the day. I have never in the history of my life felt that energized in the morning. Now suddenly, I was actually getting out of bed earlier than I needed to. I was making tea, maybe even doing yoga… but even if I did choose to stay in bed my thoughts and my mood were still positive.
On the night before the end of the 10 day “break” from my alarm, I realized I was dreading going back. I was looking down at my phone, at the little toggle between off or on, just feeling dread. The next day I needed to get up at 7am. This wasn’t an experiment anymore, there would be consequences if I didn’t wake up. Can a person really go to bed without an alarm when they need to wake up at a certain time the next morning? I had to trust that my body would just wake up. I decided to take the risk and give it a try.
Well, what happened? First, something you need to know: I have struggled with PTSD for the larger part of my life. Mornings have always been the hardest time of day for me. The moments between awake and asleep are when the flashbacks show up. I believe waking up with an alarm increased the odds of me being triggered in the morning. Years of starting my day with alarms that trigger flashbacks left me with a bad perception of mornings, even after the flashbacks subsided. It also left me with a lack of trust for myself, as PTSD can often feel like you are at war with your mind and betrayed by your body.
Ok, now here’s what happened: I have never woken up late in over a year after ditching the alarm. But this whole experience ran a lot deeper than I realized. Waking up on time is great, but beyond that, each day that passes I grow to trust my body more and more. I’ve learned that my body will provide me with what I need, not only with sleep but in all areas of my life.
I work as a coach for parents and teens struggling with anxiety and PTSD. It is always a priority to connect a client with their intuition, and one of the best ways to do that is to help them learn to trust their bodies in small ways. I never recognized how my alarm felt like a betrayal of trust for my body every single morning. Yes, that sounds dramatic, I cringe a little just typing it. But only after having the absence of the alarm, and trusting my body daily that it would wake me up, did I realized it really was that profound for me.
I highly encourage anyone who is reading this to consider whether they might be able to turn the alarm off — especially those with anxiety or PTSD. You won’t know the impact until after it happens. I had grown so accustomed to the noise that only once I turned it off did I realize how loud it was.
You can follow me for more tools @cindyrobinsonllc or visit my website at www.cindyrobinsonllc.com.
