March 14, 2010
Firstly and foremostly, if you haven't checked out Travis's blog at I Like To Fish, check it out NOW. And then join in the crazy Memoir Monday fun. Anyone can play! You don't even have to be in the popular crowd!
I apologize for not doing as much blog reading and commenting as I would like lately, considering I've been too busy popping Percocets and recovering from having a camera-on-a-stick shoved in my belly button and arcane gynecologic instruments crammed up my hoo-hoo, but I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things. Sooo....with all that TMI having been said, here's my tale for the day.
In this Memoir Monday, I am going to recount my various and sundry sleep annoyances. I'm not talking about just insomnia here, folks. I'm talkin' bout some funny shit. Some deep-seated, weird-ass funny shit. This can't really be told in story format, but more along the lines of a timeline or outline. In part one, I am going to reveal to the world a scandalous secret about myself. You will laugh. You will cry. You will encourage me to see a counselor. In part two, I will describe a recurring dream I had from a 2 or 3-year period from 5th to 7th grades. In part three, I will attempt to describe a rather terrifying phenomenon I experienced on an almost weekly basis throughout my teen years, a phenomenon for which I only recently discovered there was a name. In part four, I will reveal another slightly less scandalous, albeit funny, sleep habit I have formed as an adult. One my husband finds particularly amusing. So here goes.
Part I: Scandalous Secret: I peed in the bed until I was 11 or 12, maybe even a little older. The first time my husband and I moved in together after we were married, I was still terrified I was going to pee in the bed. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to change my sheets and trying to hide them at the bottom of the laundry pile so my mom wouldn't notice. She always noticed. She never said anything to me. I cannot thank her enough for that. Now, I know a lot of you would be looking for deeply rooted psychological problems. No. It was the damn toilet dream. You know the one. I would really have to pee, and then would dream I was actually sitting on the toilet. Aaaahhhhh........oops.
Part II: Recurring Nightmare: I had a really good friend in elementary/middle school. Her dad was the preacher at the church I went to (just because I wanted to hang out with my friends, of course). They had an old Spanish type house with hardwood floors. In their backyard, there was a fish pond. This particular recurring nightmare happened weekly, if not more often, for about 2 or 3 years. It started shortly after I quit peeing in the bed. In the dream, I could see myself walking slowly across my friend's backyard, toward her fish pond, dressed as Snow White. When I got to the fish pond, I would kneel down and stick my hand in the water. When I took my hand out, I saw that the fish pond was actually filled with acid and my hand had dissolved into a bloody, mucousy stump. Then I would wake up. Nice.
Part III: The Phenomenon: Shortly after I stopped having the Snow White dream, something else started happening that was truly kind of scary. I had no idea what was wrong with me back then, but thanks to the invention of the Internet, I now know it's called "sleep paralysis." This began sometime around 9th grade and continued until shortly after my husband and I married. Again, this happened on a weekly basis, if not more often. It was usually the same circumstance/story line. I would partially wake up. I was awake enough to know that I was sleeping (if that makes sense) but I couldn't move. The partially-still-asleep part of my brain would be dreaming that someone broke into my house and was walking toward my bedroom. The awake part of my brain would be trying to convince myself to move, scream, anything. The asleep part would be terrified, even though I still knew it was a dream, he was still coming. And I still couldn't move. I would be trying so hard to move a toe, a finger, make any kind of noise, anything! But nothing would happen. During episodes that were especially bad, I would actually stop breathing in my sleep and that is what eventually woke me up- because I would be holding my breath in real life, and I would wake up gasping for air.
Part IV: Slightly Less Scandalous, Albeit Funny: Like I said, the sleep paralysis stuff stopped soon after I got married, almost immediately, actually. Like everything else, however, it was replaced by some other weird thing. This time, I started talking in my sleep. Evidently, according to my husband, I am so coherent that he actually has conversations with me. He swears he's going to record them and put them on Youtube. We'd probably put The Crying Wife to shame! According to him, I also sleep in weird positions, where I am not completely relaxed, like with my arm raised in the air or waving my hands around. Now, you're probably thinking, "that's not even remotely scandalous! What gives?" True, so true, my friend. The last of my sleep neuroses I would like to leave you with this Monday can be summed up in two words- Sleep Sex. For shame! I don't know how or why, but I have been known to wake up my husband and engage in marital relations while I am still asleep. Regularly.
Happy Monday Freaks! Love,
Pleasantly "sittin' on tha toilet" Demented.
PS- If anyone would like to attempt to psychotherapeutically diagnose me, feel free to do so in the comments section below. I don't suppose it really matters, though, considering my husband is adamant that, at least right now, there is absolutely nothing wrong.