Every so often I suffer from sleep paralysis. A quick explanation is this – Every time the body goes into its REM cycle it first paralyzes the body so that the dreamer does not act out the dream physically. The eyes are the only things that are given license to move. That is why the eyes twitch during a dream and the rest of the body is still. Sleep paralysis occurs when the mind wakes up before it un-paralyzes the body. More information on this can be found: Here. It is hard to describe what happens, but in my experience I am very aware of my surroundings. I cannot move anything but my eyes and breathing is difficult or impossible. Sometimes I hallucinate while paralyzed. Here is one of those instances.
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I am in high school and asleep in my bed downstairs. The darkness of the predawn floods my room anticipating my 6:33 alarm. I lay on my back in my heated waterbed dreaming diligently – when suddenly I awake. I perceive my room. It looks exactly as it did before my eyelids shut. Immediately however, I feel the pressure. My chest is heavy – as if someone where sitting on it. My arms lay gently at my sides, my head facing up, my feet are barely touching. I cannot move. My eyes dart about hoping for a sign that I’m dreaming.
Before I get conformation, something catches my attention. It is a horrid demon. It is about the size of crafty animal – a fox, maybe a dog. It is using small wings to fly around occupied with its devilish work. The demon looks at me with an eye of fire and I know that it is Satan. The beast continues flying around attending to cross-bows that are set up around my room. They are all pointing precisely at my head. I cannot see one bolt shaft, only the sharpened broadheads glistening at their’ ends. I wrench hard against my cold shell, I beg God to set my body free. My spirit collapses in defeat. I am fixed, unmoving. My soul is upset, it is overwhelmed by a strong since of wrong, of evil. Satan has one eye on me and one on each weapon as he stretches the strings tight. The traps are set. The strands are taught. I cannot decide which is worse, not being able to move, or not knowing when the arrows will be released. They do not answer to me. I feel no sense of God – only evil. Satan is in control. I tear, strain, and yank my body with my mind. Not one movement, life is vulnerable. A chill of terror clings to my bones.
This isn’t my first experience with sleep paralysis. I know what to do, and what feels most natural is not it. The more I attempt to contort my body the more I cannot move. Here I go. I look away from the flying beast and do the last thing that feels right. I relax everything: muscles, tension, thoughts. I focus solely on the command “wake up.” I think of nothing else. Starting softly I begin saying it louder and more forcefully – “wake up… Wake Up… WAKE UP!”
Fresh air slams into my lungs as I gasp, I sit up straight and rigid. Everything is the same – the room, the lighting, my clock, and the time on it. Satan is gone. His traps are gone. I try to catch my breath and notice that the evil is gone. I am alone. The absence of pure evil must be holiness. There is no dawn, only day and night. My room is righteous, saintly.
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Here is a painting by Alex Cannon That describes sleep paralysis perfectly. This is a beautiful painting of a terrible thing. Something one can only attempt to describe, through words or brush strokes.
By: Alex Cannon
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