[EP11] The Insomnia Emergency Protocol
Trevor had a binder for this. Of course he did.
Note: For readers new to the Mansion, each of the eight voices you’ll meet in this Session represents an archetypal part of the internal family system (IFS). These characters form a mythic council inside my psyche. Some protect. Some feel. Some process. Some burn it all down and start again.
The identities placed after each name offer a label from my own psyche, reflecting their unique energy and role. You don’t need to know IFS to feel it. But if you do? You’ll recognize the exiles, managers, and firefighters by how they speak. And how they show up at 2:47am.
[Scene opens at 2:47am. The conference room is dim and theoretically quiet. Trevor stands at the whiteboard in his robe, marker uncapped, a laminated binder open on the table — color-coded tabs, title page reading “INSOMNIA EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS v4.2 (Revised).” The chandelier flickers once. Simon, relocated from Trevor’s room for emotional support, leans toward the nearest candle.]
Trevor (The Conductor): [consulting binder] 2:47am. Stage Two non-compliance. Initiating Protocol Delta. [He writes on the whiteboard. Underlines it twice.]
Step One: Body Temperature Regulation.
—Cool the room two degrees
—Regulate breathing to a 4-7-8 count
—Avoid —avoid — all cognitively stimulating thoughts.
Is everyone clear? No. Stimulating. Thoughts.
[A hand raises from somewhere in the dim.]
Dion (The Comedian): [Sitting sideways in his chair, silk-robed, glass of something in hand, deeply unbothered.] Define stimulating.
Trevor: [slowly caps marker] Dion. I will laminate you.
Dion: That sounds stimulating.
[Kurt makes a noise from his chair — arms crossed, eyes closed, possibly asleep, possibly just refusing to participate. Could be agreement. Could be a dream about deadlifts. No one investigates.]
Trevor: [returns to binder] Step Three. Visualization. I’ve pre-selected three approved options. [flips to Tab C]
—Option A: A quiet library
—Option B: A still mountain lake
—Option C: A well-organized filing system
Dion: [raising his hand again] Which filing system? Because Cyril’s is arousing and Lenny’s is just clinical.
Lenny (The Collector): [Sitting at the far end of the table, a neat stack of files open in front of him, pen in hand and says without looking up] My system has a 94% retrieval accuracy rate.
Dion: My point exactly.
Cyril (The Concierge): [appearing with tea, because Cyril always has tea] Trevor. It’s been forty minutes.
Trevor: I’m aware.
Cyril: The protocol isn’t working.
Trevor: The protocol works. The body is being uncooperative.
Cyril: Those are the same thing.
Trevor: [His marker hovers. He doesn’t write anything. The silence is very specific. He speaks quietly] I added a Tab D this time. Aromatherapy. I researched lavender.
Cyril: [sits] I know.
Trevor: Revised the breathing ratio. 4-7-8 is now 4-6-8. Updated literature.
Cyril: Trevor.
Trevor: Organized the visualizations by cortisol response data —
Cyril: The last time this happened it lasted six months.
Trevor: [The marker goes down. He sits. Looks at the binder. All those tabs. In a low voice of recognition] I know.
Cyril: We don’t fight it this time. Remember what we learned.
[Nels (The Counselor), who has been sitting quietly with his hands folded, opens his eyes. Lenny sets his pen down — which, for Lenny, is the equivalent of standing up and clearing his throat. Even Kurt uncrosses his arms. Simon leans a little further toward the light.]
Artie (The Creator): [He looks up from his sketchpad in the corner and says barely above a whisper] Maybe... maybe it wants us awake for something?
[Nobody answers. Because nobody wants to be the one to say: yes. Probably.]
Lenny: [picking his pen back up, matter-of-fact] The last time we couldn’t sleep, we wrote something important.
Trevor: [long pause] ...that’s not in the binder.
Lenny: No.
[Dion grins. Nels exhales slowly, like a man who has been waiting for the room to catch up with him. Cyril slides a fresh piece of paper and a pen across the table toward the empty chair at the head. Nobody sits in it. They don’t need to. The room knows what to do next.]
Trevor: [staring at the binder, Tab D untouched] ...I’m going to need a bigger binder.
Dion: [soft, no punchline] No you’re not.
[Scene fades. The candles stay lit. The binder stays closed. And the Mansion stays awake — because some nights, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to do.]
End Session.