Last night, as noticed
The sentence may arrive — that's noticing it, not obeying it.
5
The nights, as written
Insomnia Severity Index
Seven questions, a moment of noticing. Take it now, then again in ~4–6 weeks — the change is the data.
The three rules
No streaks. Nothing to keep alive. A missed night is not a broken chain.
No red days. Every entry is neutral. The diary never judges.
No fees. No guilt for forgetting. The diary works for you, not the other way around.
Why the diary
Insomnia has three gears: predisposing (a sensory system that doesn't filter — all noise at foreground volume), precipitating (what life throws), perpetuating (the pills, the pen, the habits, the beliefs).
This diary watches the perpetuating part — gently. Its job is to become the study nobody ever ran: your sleep, measured by you, for you.
Later, these entries calculate your sleep window — the core of CBT-I. For now, they just notice.
The morning verdict
Some mornings open with a sentence: "I didn't sleep enough." That sentence is a thought, not a measurement. "Enough" carries no number — the belief decides it wasn't enough before the clock has spoken.
The practice: let the sentence arrive, notice it, let it pass — the same allow-and-pass muscle as everywhere else. The clock data is the witness.
The sensory kit
Brown noise — the under-filtering system's best friend at night.
Eye mask — the nest is dark on purpose.
Loop Engage — the world at a lower volume.
Cold water — the downshift that works in seconds.
"the study nobody ran — you're running it now."