
Therapy for Insomnia
Why Do I Spiral At Night?
Welcome to The Overthinking Variety Show!
A very special late-night program brought to you by… your nervous system!
You lie down to rest, but your brain has other plans.
Suddenly, it’s like a late-night talk show in your head.
The stage is set with bright lights, a laugh track, and cue cards that don’t matter—because we’re going way off script.
The host brings anxious, energetic, unrehearsed Conan O’Brien energy and enters the stage to announce tonight’s lineup:
“We’re going to kick off tonight’s show with a countdown of the Top 5 Things You Meant to Do Today… and didn’t.”
“Coming up after the break: That weird patch of skin on your leg is probably nothing… but let’s Google skin cancer to put your mind at ease.”
“A favorite segment for parents: What if I’ve already messed up the kids? Top 10 Ways You’re Probably Failing.”
“And don’t miss our closing monologue: I can’t believe I said that. Here are 20 things I should have said instead.”
(Cue internal applause. Cue cortisol.)
And just like that, your nervous system is wide awake.
Not because you’re broken—but because some part of you has learned that nighttime is when the real work of review, rehearsal, and protection begins.
But wait, there’s an encore tonight:
“Oh fuck, I have to get up in an hour.”
Backstage With the Nervous System
For many people—especially those with trauma, chronic pain or illness, neurodivergence, or anxiety—nighttime is when the holding-it-all-together mask slips off. There’s less to distract you. Fewer roles to perform. The body slows, and everything you didn’t have time to feel earlier comes up for air.
Your nervous system might not know how to go off-duty just because the lights are out. That’s not weakness. That’s survival intelligence.
When the body never learned, or doesn’t remember, how to fully settle, stillness itself can feel unfamiliar—even unsafe. So it stays ready. It’s your body trying to love you through vigilance.
So in fact, the host of the Overthinking Variety Show isn’t trying to sabotage you—she’s just trying to keep you safe, even if her methods are a little loud, chaotic, or outdated.
Step into the Spotlight & Cue the Conversation!
Begin the Inquiry Process.
The Neuroscience of Nighttime Spiraling
At night, there’s less input from the outside world—so the inside world gets louder.
Fewer distractions = more mental noise
Cortisol levels naturally rise in the evening, which can increase emotional reactivity
Unprocessed stress often floats up without an outlet
The amygdala (your brain’s threat detector) may stay on high alert, even when the day is done
The brain’s default mode network becomes more active during rest—bringing up memory, emotion, and rumination, especially in people with anxiety or trauma histories.
And for many, nighttime is the only moment all day their body has slowed down enough to notice what it’s been holding.
It makes sense that your brain gets busy when everything else gets quiet.
And once you understand why, you can start to respond with more compassion—and less fear.
Rewriting the Script
We’ve established that the host of the Overthinking Variety Show plays an important, protective role, so we’re not going to cancel her completely. But we can start to understand her cues, turn down the volume, and maybe even rewrite some of the script.
In therapy, we might explore:
Nervous system tools that help your body shift toward rest at night
Parts work to get curious about the overfunctioning host (and the backstage crew, too)
Updating sleep rituals that feel less rigid and more supportive
Tracking patterns or beliefs that only show up after dark—so they don’t run the whole show
You might not silence every 3AM thought, but you can build a new relationship with them. One that’s less urgent. Less loud. And more attuned to what you actually need.
And hey, you might even make friends with the host.
Philosophy of Care
This late-night talk show bit might resonate with you, but there’s nothing funny about losing sleep. The frustration, the loneliness, the sense of betrayal that your body won’t do something it should—it can be brutal. But sometimes, a little humor can bring some air into the heavy, tense places where rest used to live. In my work, we use gentle curiosity, parts work, and yes, a bit of absurdity to loosen what suffering has tightened in the body.
When your nervous system has learned that stillness isn’t safe, it makes sense that sleep can feel unreachable. We don’t try to force rest—we build a relationship with the parts of you that stay awake on purpose. The ones running rehearsals. The ones keeping you safe.
This work isn’t about quick fixes. It’s about creating space—physically, emotionally, neurologically, and yes, sometimes humoristically—for your system to begin trusting safety and rest.