I can’t sleep.
Recently sleep has become more and more of a problem for me. It just doesn’t happen. If it actually does, I normally get nightmares.
You ever had sleep paralysis? That kind of awake but dreaming purgatory that puts your body to rest but keeps your mind alive? I get that a lot. It’s not pleasant. I guess if I could explain it, it would be like having your dreams, complete with sound and vision, projected onto the room around you, as your eyes are open. But your body is numb. You can breathe, you can see, but that’s about it. Imagine having a panic attack but genuinely being unable to move.
If it happens though, panicking is the opposite of what you need to do. If someone is there, the first instinct is to call for help. But hey, your whole body is paralysed, so it comes out like you’re choking on marbles in this mumbled, muffled screech from the back of your throat. Just try and breathe deep, controlled, measured breaths and wait until it passes.
This normally happens on waking up from a particularly vivid or unpleasant dream. But my mind likes fucking with me, so I get it before I fall asleep too. Which makes it hard for me to want to sleep. So I don’t.
I close my eyes to attempt a sleep, and all hell breaks loose, my imagination running rampant like a horse escaping a wildfire. It FUCKING sucks, and that wildfire is essentially my brain. The horse is me. Except I am awake, the horse is on fire, and everything is on fire because I am my brain.
If I do fall asleep though, I tend to a good old fashioned nightmare. So if I do sleep, it’s not going to be nice. I had a dream last night that was like an episode of Stranger Things. It went like this:
I was in a lighthouse, real big, real old and derelict. Everything was metallic, poorly lit and dully coloured. For some reason, a group of my friends (who had no faces) I were tasked with ‘house sitting’ it. All was chill, I was wandering around this big old place having a look around. Alas, my curious nature got the better of me and I stumble across a door. The door was locked, appeared to be off of a walkway and made entirely of coarse wood planks. So for whatever reason I grab the nearest thing and throw it at it. This crimson looking cushion flew towards the door and of course nothing happened as it hit it and fell uselessly to the floor. So i turn to leave and something grabs my shoulder and I turned around a little scared. I could feel it on my body. It was not happy. Out of nowhere this huge wooden stick smashes the floor repeatedly, suspended in the air at one end. I could hear it through my body. The sound is ungodly. Naturally I run for the staircase to head to the top to seek comfort in the others. Following me is a whole host of objects smashing around the spiral staircase. I make it to the top, I am not alone but I don’t appear to exist as the others ignore me. I fall to the floor in the foetal position at the top of the building, ready to face death. So I’m screaming in my dream, and wake up doing exactly that. I twisted my ankle not long ago, and as I woke I could feel the pain from running up those stairs in my dream throughout my leg. I could feel it.
This was all scarily vivid, so I wrote a short instrumental guitar piece to kind of explain how I feel after I’ve been stewing on it all day. Link below.