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When you’re in the midst of a breakup, ghosting, or another painful loss, your system is not only experiencing the pain of loss, it’s also interpreting it as a threat to its survival.

The loss of a love activates the attachment system, the part of us wired to seek connection, safety, and emotional wellbeing through another person. When that bond is severed, it can be especially painful. Part of you is still scanning, still reaching out, still hoping to re-establish contact and mend the connection, or at least make sense of what’s happening.

Biochemically, heartbreak activates your body’s stress response. Stress hormones like cortisol and norepinephrine rise, keeping your psyche, and your entire system for that matter, in a state of vigilance, as if something important still needs to be addressed or resolved. That can make it extraordinarily difficult to sleep.

At the same time, your body’s production of bonding neurochemicals such as dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and vasopressin decreases sharply. The sudden loss of connection can make it feel as if the bottom has fallen out from under you emotionally. Your thoughts spiral out of control as your mind vacillates, replaying what you shared with this person, fantasizing about reuniting, and rehearsing what you might say to restore the connection. As this is happening, you’re feeling the ache in your chest and the churning in your abdomen. And then you find yourself consumed by powerful waves of sadness, grief, hurt, fear, anxiety, and that painful sense of longing.

By the end of the evening, when you’re lying in bed, exhausted, the defenses that held much of the distressing emotional pain stored in your body at bay during the day have come down. And so you find yourself lying awake, flooded with the most unsettling feelings. That’s why a painful loss so often hits much harder at night.

So you’re not failing at sleep. Your system is doing exactly what it’s designed to do when something deeply meaningful has been lost and has not yet fully processed.

You’ll often find advice online that suggests things like writing your thoughts down before bed, setting aside a specific time earlier in the day to “process” your emotions, doing structured breathing techniques, or using simple mental distractions to interrupt looping thoughts. The idea behind these approaches is to give the mind somewhere to put what’s unresolved so it doesn’t keep you awake at night.

For some people, these strategies may take the edge off. But when the pain of heartbreak runs extraordinarily deep, they rarely touch what’s really happening.

In my own experience, the intensity of what I was feeling in the midst of a painful loss made all of those strategies totally ineffective. When I was flooded with sadness, loss, grief, anxiety, and longing, no amount of thought management or breathing counts could put me to sleep. Many nights, I lay awake until two, three, or four in the morning. Other times, I’d fall asleep only to wake in the early morning hours and be unable to return to sleep. Over time, the exhaustion compounded the distress.

Eventually, I stopped fighting it.

Instead of trying to make the pain go away, I began allowing it to surface fully. I would lie there breathing into the depths of what I was feeling, even when it meant being awake for hours. At times the pain was excruciating, bringing with it a range of intense physical sensations, along with powerful waves of emotion moving through my body. I stayed with it, breathing softly and deeply, letting the entire process run its course.

When the intensity dragged on, I would sometimes get up and meditate, work on projects that needed attention, do martial arts practice, or go for long walks in the middle of the night. More often than not, this helped diffuse the emotional charge and settle my system enough that I could finally fall asleep.

What made a huge difference was a shift in attitude. I stopped treating the sleeplessness as a problem to be fixed and began to see it as an integral part of the healing process. Instead of resisting what was happening, I became more accepting of the disrupted sleep cycle, and intentionally used that time to digest my lived experiences of loss and the emotions attached to them, and allowed the process to run its course.

The lack of sleep was challenging, but I adapted. I rested whenever my body allowed it, even if that meant sleeping at unusual times during the day. I have to admit, it was especially difficult on days when I had to stay awake for scheduled appointments. I know it can be even harder for those of you working long hours in jobs that demand a lot of you.

As I continued to process and digest the emotional intensity, my sleep gradually began to normalize. In time, as you digest what you’re carrying, your sleep can normalize as well.

Walking meditation was incredibly stabilizing for me during these times. Walking at a gradual pace while breathing, with my awareness rooted in the depths of what I was feeling, helped me diffuse the intensity of all those all-consuming emotions. I could also feel the presence of the Earth comforting and nourishing my body, and the more vulnerable parts of me.

Most of all, the work I did with gifted healers, along with the vision quest, a traditional Native American healing practice involving fasting without food or water alone in the mountains for four days and nights, helped me digest the painful loss and all the emotions attached to what I was going through. It also helped me let go and move on, while restoring my sense of equilibrium so I could once again sleep soundly through the night.

I see this same process unfold with people who work with me one-on-one. As they digest their lived experience of loss, the intensity of their emotions decreases. They become more grounded and resilient, come out the other side lighter and clearer, and many go on to form healthier, more secure attachments with partners who are genuinely compatible.

If you’re in the midst of a breakup or some other painful relational drama, flooded with intense emotions, struggling to sleep, and are in need of support to cycle through what you’re feeling and get yourself back on track, you’re welcome to call or message me at (332) 333-5155 or email ben@benoofana.com

You can also learn more about my work at benoofana.com, teachmetomeditate.com, healmyheartache.com, and breakupfirstaid.com.