Pillow Thoughts

Sleep paralysis is a concept I have learned to fear due to the nature of the unwelcome guests that arrive with it.

Tonight is no different.

I wake up upon hearing the front door rattle, the lights flicker, but my body is on lockdown. The guttural breathing can easily be mistaken for my light snoring should I have decided against holding my breath in that moment. The breathing moved from the kitchen to the couch where I lay facing its back, and fear tightens the ropes around my body even tighter.

My ears begin to ring out of control with the same ringing that one hears when they sit in their car as it winds down. The same ringing when turning off a box screen TV or computer monitor, even, and I can even say it reminds me of the angels speaking on that one TV show with the brothers hunting monsters.

I’m afraid whatever keeps coming into my apartment isn’t an angel.

As the intruder comes closer, it leans its mouth closer to my left ear while tracing a path down my left side. The path turns into a two-way street, going back up as soon as it reaches my lower back. I would wince if I could. The ringing rises to the level of being flash banged. The intruder only breathes loudly into my ear over the continuous ring and continues running a light hand on my side for a few more moments before stopping.

Confusion starts to replace the panic as I fly through the steps of waking up the proper way. I begin gasping for air and start moving my head to face my unwelcome guest, who only maintains their noisy exhales into my ear.

However, there’s no one there when I turn my head as far as it can go and the breathing stops. The ringing continues at a more tolerant level.

The lights flicker, the door rattles, and all is quiet again.

I check my phone on the coffee table beside me.

Friday, May 12th, 2018 11:38 PM

My phone begins to shake and blur, but I realize it is only me. I’m crying.

Tears still running, I go into the kitchen and start filling a kettle with water.

I’m not really a tea person, or a coffee person—in fact, the only caffeinated beverage I drink is pre-workout. I only drink tea because it can be comforting sometimes and the only tea I can drink is breakfast tea with honey and lemon.

Setting the kettle on high heat, I start scrolling through my phone to distract myself, but I find myself typing on a memo attempting to describe what just happened in words.

The whole sleep paralysis thing only seems to happen once or twice a year since I was 17, but every time it gets worse than before.

So now, I figure, it's time to follow that weird Cinderella Disney logic:

"If I tell you my dream, it can't come true."