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Sleep Paralysis

You're gonna hate every minute of it.

By Kerri SimmonsPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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The Nightmare. Directed by Rodney Ascher, Zipper Bros Films, 2015.

I was five or six when I first experienced it. I would "wake up" to find the room swirling with shadows and flames, everything was in black in white, terrible creatures would come crawling towards me, but I was definitely still in my room. Sometimes I'd even see or hear my parents, but they were always just out of reach. The most memorable part of the ordeal though, was the fact that I couldn't breathe. I'd try to yell for help, but no one would hear me or see me writhing for air because in reality, I wasn't moving at all. I was only a kid so I didn't know what was happening to me. As soon as I was able to move I'd go running into my parents' room screaming, "I can't breathe!" (While clearly breathing) and crying about what I'd just witnessed. Of course they didn't know what I was talking about and over the years they did everything they could to help. To them it was a combination of extremely vivid nightmares and asthma attacks.

From the ages of six to ten I was banned from watching anything they considered slightly triggering from A Pup Named Scooby Doo to nature documentaries where an animal died because surely it was just my overactive imagination at play. My inhalers stayed by their nightstand for whenever I ran in at 5am gasping for air. I didn't take naps at daycare because I was afraid of what might happen if I fell asleep. This went on for several years... then it stopped. I'd still have nightmares every few months or so, but they were the kind I could wake up from. I grew up and I was finally sleeping like a normal person. I forgot about the ordeal quickly. The terror was over. There was nothing to worry about.

Then I started college.

I'm an only child who's slept in a queen bed since the age of eight... dorm rooms were a challenge. Not only did I have to sleep with someone barely six feet from my side, I was forced to occupy a twin-sized bed and I'm NOT a twin-sized girl. I was uncomfortable.

The move was messing with my sleep schedule. I'd go days without falling asleep on a regular basis. I was taking Melatonin, NyQuil, burning "sleepy time" candles, dowsing my body in "calming" lotions, ANYTHING to fall asleep. I'd start cleaning my room at 4am then watch tv until the sun came up. Then, after staying up for 48 hours or more, I'd crash and sleep through the daytime. What I found myself doing more and more was simply lying in bed for hours, hoping to doze off, but knowing I wouldn't. I called them "half naps." It was miserable.

I'd been taking half naps for a whole semester. I'd find a gap between my classes, turn on some music, and lie flat on my back. I never really felt refreshed when I was forced to get up, but it got me through the next lecture. I was usually left with the feeling that If I had twenty more minutes I would've actually fallen asleep. On one particular day, I did get that extra twenty minutes.

I dozed off, but my brain jolted awake soon after, wary of some impending deadline I might've been forgetting. That's when it happened.

I could not move and I felt something weighing heavy on my chest as I lay there, helpless. I could still breathe, but it wasn't easy. Then the wall started to move. I saw a shadowy figure of a bird on a branch that was somehow plastered to the drywall inches from my face. Then the bird turned into a face that seemed to be getting closer to me, and the face started to melt.. .and I was stuck there. The whole time I was thinking to myself, If you panic, it might make it harder to breathe, so I stayed as calm as I could. It seemed like half an hour had passed, but in reality it was only a couple minutes. As soon as I realized I could move I scrambled to untangle myself from my sheets and ran down three flights of stairs to find my friend. In her equally cramped quarters, I sobbed and spoke gibberish about the bird and the face until she let out a small giggle. I started to laugh too. No more half naps for me.

Almost a month later, in psychology class, my professor mentioned sleep paralysis. I wasn't the best listener, but this caught my attention. Before he had a chance to explain what it was, I got out my phone to google the term. Sure enough, this was what I'd been experiencing on and off since the age of six. I felt a wave of relief. Finally, I know what's happening to me! What's causing this?

Basically, sleep paralysis is a result of our bodies trying to protect us. Our brain is always active, so the only way for us to sleep safely, is for our body to be slightly "paralyzed" during certain parts of the sleep cycle. Otherwise, we'd act out what our brain is doing whilst we slumber. Sans science, this phenomenon has been explained in the past as some sort of demonic spirit, fooling around with people as they sleep. Throughout different cultures and times there have been supernatural accounts where people felt they were awake, yet frozen and terrified. We know now that this is sleep paralysis. I won't get into the science of it, but I will tell you what I do to help prevent it and what I do now when it happens. (I'm not a medical professional, these habits just help me.)

1. Sleep hygiene is important!

  • Get cozy
  • Try to clear your mind before falling asleep
  • Do things that calm you down
  • Have an actual bedtime
  • Use your bed mainly for sleeping and not tasks that stress you out like writing papers
  • DON'T take sleep medication unless you can get a full 8 hours of sleep!!!

2. When you're experiencing sleep paralysis, STAY CALM.

  • Time will seem to pass slowly, but remember it's only a few minutes tops
  • Everything is imaginary; nothing can hurt you
  • You WILL wake up before not being able to breathe becomes life threatening
  • Focus on trying to move small parts of your body to distract yourself, but don't force it. I always try moving my tongue until I've regained full mobility.

I have never had a "fun" bout of sleep paralysis, but now when I experience it, I'm no longer terrified. I'm aware of what's happening and I have the ability to think rationally and calmly. Lately, my sleep paralysis episodes have manifested themselves as me being far away from something, though I'm not sure what. I no longer futilely call for help though, because there's no need. I know that it will pass. I've accepted that it can and will still happen, but there's no need to be afraid. The monsters have finally gone away, and for that I am thankful.

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