I've mentioned my battles with insomnia before. With it comes a host of other bugaboos, and buggiest of all bugaboos has to be sleep paralysis. I had an episode this morning, and thought I'd take the blog off the writer tracks today and discuss it. Err... bitch about it. Same thing. Sleep paralysis is a mighty mother-effer of a bitch. You do not want to go there. Here is the wiki explanation if you are unfamiliar.
Basically, you're dreaming, but you would bet your last nickel you're awake. Every time I hear a paranormal experience that starts, "I was asleep and then something was choking me, holding me down, sitting on my chest," I discount it immediately. I love a ghost story, I believe in the paranormal, but don't judge me because I also believe in science. I've had so many experiences and felt such a wide range of things are happening to me that I understand, when this happens to someone out of the blue, they think they're having a visitation from the old hag or aliens are keeping them paralyzed.
The truth is, you are paralyzed, because you are dreaming. In sleep paralysis I've had the following experiences:
I've felt like something was sitting on me - it's usually something evil
I've been dragged off the bed (just like Paranormal Activity, only to wake and find myself in bed)
Once I thought my brother was sitting on me and trying to kill me
I've been on a train or a plane or a rocket going so fast it's pushing me back in my seat
Falling so fast that I'm unable to breathe
The most common experience for me is listening to someone breaking into my apartment and being paralyzed with fear. I wake up and still can't move, believing they are in the apartment. Last night's experience was horrible, and for a moment, I threw aside the rationale of "sleep paralysis"... until I woke up and rationale returned. I thought a woman was on top of me pushing me down. At the same time, I believed I was on my parent's old couch and someone had covered me head to toe with a blanket and sat on me. I woke up, still unable to move, thinking of the old hag of the stories. I lay there, gasping, still scared, because it always feels like there's someone in the room. I slowly became aware of my surroundings and the fear eased up. I found the pressure on my chest was my own hand. Seriously. The weight of my own hand resting on my chest felt like a thousand pounds. The numbness of my legs was from my muscles being held stiff for so long and my bum knee, which I twisted the other day, locked in place. I sat up in bed, when I could, and announced "I do believe in fairies. I don't believe in hags."
I like to think that somewhere, a fairy spread its wings and an old crone lost the last of her teeth.