Is His Bizarre Sleep Routine a Relationship Dealbreaker?

Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. Dear Prudence, I have been dating “Cesar” for several months now. I’m not saying he is “the one” yet, although we get along great and our future together looks promising. But (there always seems to be a “but”), there is something about him that I don’t know if I can handle. We have been intimate, but due to our work schedules, we had never spent the night together until the last couple of weekends. Cesar, when he sleeps, sleeps on top of the covers (wearing pajamas) and basically looks like he is in a coffin. Flat on his back, no pillow, arms crossed over his chest, never moving from the time we say, “Goodnight” until one of us wakes up for the day. He says he is a hot sleeper, so that is why he doesn’t need covers, and that he “hypnotizes/hibernates” himself before going to sleep by focusing on lowering his breathing rate and completely relaxing his body. One time, I honestly thought he was dead because I could not hear him breathe, and his skin actually felt cooler to the touch. It kind of freaks me out if I happen to get up to use the bathroom and come back to what looks like a dead man lying on the bed. Plus, with him on top of the covers and me under the covers (I need a cover over me to sleep), there is no cuddling during the night, which I have enjoyed with previous relationships. Any suggestions on how to get over this? We are in our mid-20s, so the chance of him actually being dead is quite slim. —His Sleeping Style Is Freaking Me Out Dear Sleeping Style, Do you know how much money and energy people spend on magnesium, melatonin, sleep hygiene habits, meditation apps, and limiting blue light and caffeine after 2 p.m. to achieve what Cesar does with the power of his mind? I’m impressed! And I actually think this hypnosis trick is a great sign of his ability to manage his body and mind. If the two of you end up getting married and you miss your connecting flight on the way to your honeymoon, guess who’s not going to be red-faced and yelling at an airline employee? Cesar. He’ll take a few deep breaths, hypnotize himself into a cool, logical mindset, and figure out the next steps. Plus, he’s not snoring or anything? This is a win! I hate that you’re not getting to cuddle in your sleep, but if you do want to snuggle up to his corpse-like body, you could just place a small comforter over only yourself and stick an arm out to drape over him. It doesn’t sound like he’ll give a lot back, but it’s something. Regarding your concerns that he’s dead, I have to say, sleeping people in general look a lot like dead people. Your checking his breathing and feeling his skin when you had absolutely no reason to believe he’d passed away (he’s not a three-day-old infant on his first night home from the hospital, and it’s not as if you found him lying on the bathroom floor) is concerning and makes me think the solution involves managing your anxiety. Only you know whether this is a larger issue in your life, but in the meantime, maybe you could adopt a mantra like, “He’s safe, and he’s having a wonderful night of sleep. I will do the same.” Or ask him to teach you to self-hypnotize so you won’t be awake to worry about him. Dear Prudence, I have a neighbor I’m concerned about. She has two kids in the 7 to 10 age range, which is a little older than my kids, and we’ve done occasional playdates over several years where we chat while the kids play, but that’s it. I’ve met her husband briefly. She doesn’t work, and he travels for work and is gone for weeks at a time. She’s always been extremely flaky, often canceling at the last minute. Over a year ago, that turned into every plan getting cancelled, and I stopped trying, figuring it wasn’t a priority for them. Then recently, she called me out of the blue. She was talking very fast, in a high, child-like voice. She didn’t make much sense, but from what I could gather, her husband has called the police on her multiple times in the past year, the last time leading to an involuntary stay in a psychiatric ward. She was making claims about her husband and mother both being narcissists who were sabotaging her, repeating herself a lot, and seemed to be in a state of panic. Since then, she’s sent me several bursts of texts about some sort of volunteer work she’s apparently trying to turn into a job that is tangentially related to my field, sort of asking for advice, but never giving me enough information that I could actually give any, and filled with apologies for bothering me. I’ve tried several times to make plans with her—lunch or a walk—and I’ve expressed concern for her and directed her to mental health resources. She agrees to plans but always cancels, and insists she has neurodiverse needs (I think self-diagnosed) that require very specialized professional skills. So, my question: What, if anything, can or should I be doing here? She’s clearly struggling, but we aren’t close. If it were just her, I would leave it at that. But I worry about her kids. I don’t know her husband well enough to approach him; I don’t even know if he is a safe person. I sense that she has no close friends and spends most of her time alone in her house while the kids are in school and her husband is gone. She’s clearly mentally unwell, but I don’t know if he is part of the reason for that. I think I’m doing everything I can from where I’m at, but if you have any outside suggestions, I would much appreciate it. —When There’s No Village Dear When There’s No Village, Reading your letter makes me think about how hard it is for people to help spouses, siblings, and best friends who are in distress, living in chaos, or struggling with mental health issues. They often write to me feeling completely powerless to make changes in their loved ones’ lives, because we can’t force people to do anything they don’t want to do. If it’s hard for them, who are much more directly involved in the situation, it would be nearly impossible for you. You don’t have the closeness, let alone the information about what your friend is going through, to be doing more. Even if you did, your power to push your friend toward professional help would be pretty minimal. That’s too bad, but on the other hand, I hope knowing this makes you feel a little less responsible for doing something to get to the bottom of her problems and solve them. That said, I do have two practical ideas about ways you could help her out a little bit. The first is something you’re already doing: Listen to her. Whether she’s talking about her marriage, her job search, or her neurodivergence, just hear her out and affirm the way she’s feeling. You don’t need to understand all the details—or even feel sure that they’re grounded in reality—to say, “That must have been so painful” or, “You didn’t deserve that” when she reports on the way her husband and others are treating her, or “This is really exciting for you” when she’s sharing details about her hopes for her career. While fixing everything for her would be great, there’s something to be said for making sure she knows she’s not alone. Second, go get those kids and bring them to your house for a sleepover or a weekend if everyone is comfortable with that. They’re already friends with your children. Even if it turns out that nothing is wrong beyond her husband traveling a lot, she could use a break. Prudie Wants to Hear From You! Readers often have great suggestions for our letter writers, occasionally disagree with a point Prudie makes, or simply want to provide some additional advice. Each week, Prudie will be replying to some of these comments and suggestions from readers, which will be featured on the site on Fridays for Slate Plus members. Write to us! Or submit a question here. Dear Prudence, My wife’s parents are absolutely lovely, and she is usually completely normal around them. Until, that is, we spend time with them in their home. Then the dynamic changes, and the cool, calm woman I know turns into a nervous child. Her voice rises several octaves, and she becomes extremely reactive and controlling. Our latest visit started with her hissing and tutting at everything I did, moved on to constantly correcting the kids and me, and ended with her screaming, “You’re useless” at me because I used the “wrong” knife to cut onions. I stopped what I was doing, grabbed the kids, and left. My phone started blowing up on the way home as she left a series of increasingly ugly messages while she got sloppy drunk with her sister. I was so worried about her state of mind that I shut down our joint bank account for fear of some kind of revenge. It was bad. That was Christmas, and she has yet to come home. We haven’t spoken outside of a few texts. The kids are in pieces. I don’t know what to tell them because I don’t know whether our marriage will survive. My in-laws texted me an apology, but my (ex?-)wife has only communicated anger and disappointment. We’ve been married 18 years, and every visit to her parents has gone badly, but never like this. I’ve begun separating our assets because I don’t see any way back from some of the messages she sent, particularly the ones in which she wished me and the kids harm. Where do we go from here? —Useless (Apparently) Dear Useless (Apparently), As I read your letter, I imagined unpacking for you all the ways being around parents can bring out the worst in many adults. I wondered if your wife had painful childhood experiences that caused her anxiety to really peak at home, and if you could help her manage her anxiety, while also protecting yourself from having to absorb it. And then, I read that she wished harm on you and your children. Excuse me?! I didn’t need the rest of the details. They don’t matter. The marriage is over. You need to document everything she says and get the best lawyer you can afford. Classic Prudie What do you do with green around the gills envy? My partner inherited a five-bedroom house, and we plan to renovate it with grand dreams. A music room, a library, a quilting studio, a room for our foster cat program—anything more than the one-bedroom condo we have been stuck in. Only my sister refuses to be happy for us.