Jillian had tried everything. She had struggled with insomnia for years, often lying awake at night staring at the ceiling. In sessions, we tried cognitive behavioral therapy, mindfulness, and journaling. When those proved to be ineffective, I gave her a referral to a psychiatrist who tried medication adjustments. And while that helped somewhat, she longed for natural ways to calm down. Her symptoms of ADHD and anxiety often combined in a cruel, one-sided joke at night, keeping her wide awake after the slightest noise or discomfort, or even just a thought. "It feels merciless!" she often cried. And I understood all too well.

As a therapist who works with clients with trauma history, as well as a survivor myself, I find that there is a common overlap between trauma history and struggling with sleep difficulties later in life. When insomnia hits me, it can feel hopeless and all-encompassing. As dramatic as this may sound to those who do not suffer from this ailment, it feels like I will never get to sleep again. I have tried different sleep positions, white noise, pink noise—I learned about the different types of noise—and even varied my exercise and food intake. My partner, who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, often says "Just try to relax," as if this thought never crossed my mind.

In my own therapy, sleep difficulties were often something I brought into session. While I have learned some........

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