Have you ever woken up and found yourself completely unable to move? You're conscious, but your body is paralyzed. You might even feel a weight on your chest, pressing down, making it hard to breathe. You try to cry out for help but you can't make a sound. This is what sleep paralysis feels like, and it's a terrifying experience.
It starts with a feeling that something isn't right. As you drift out of sleep, you slowly become aware that you can't move your arms or legs. It's as if your body is disconnected from your mind. Panic starts to set in as you realize you're trapped in your own body.
Then you notice a presence in the room. In the corner of your eye, you see a dark silhouette standing in the doorway. Your heart races as you watch it move closer to your bed. You want to jump up, to run, but you're completely frozen.
The figure reaches your bedside and you feel an immense pressure on your chest. It's like someone is sitting on you, crushing you into the mattress. You struggle to breathe against the weight. The figure leans in close and you can feel its breath on your face.
Shadowy hands reach out and wrap around your throat. They start to squeeze, cutting off your air. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision as you start to lose yourself in the inky black void. You're certain this is how you'll die, suffocated by a nightmare made real.
Just when you think you can't "resist" anymore, you wake up. You're gasping for air, heart pounding against your ribs. Your body is covered in sweat but you can move again. Slowly you realize it was just another episode of sleep paralysis.
This is what sleep paralysis feels like for me. It's a waking nightmare, a horror you can't escape because your own body betrays you. People might try to explain it away with science, saying it's just your mind being awake while your body is still paralyzed. But in that moment, when you're in the grip of it, none of that matters. It feels real. The terror is real. The shadow figure, the pressure, the choking sensation - it's all too real to be dismissed as a trick of the mind.
And it doesn't end when the episode does. The memory of it, the fear of it happening again, that stays with you. It lurks in the back of your mind every time you drift off to sleep. You never know when it might strike again.
The episodes came every few months for me, sometimes seemingly out of nowhere. But other times, I can trace them back to a trigger. One of those triggers, I've come to realize, is watching tapes of exorcisms, particularly the infamous exorcism of Anneliese Michel.
There's something about seeing a supposed demonic possession, hearing those disgusting screams. It's as if by watching these tapes, I invite the darkness in, give it form and substance in my mind. And then it manifests as my shadowy tormentor.
Sleep paralysis is a unique kind of terror. It's the fear of an attack you can't fight off because you can't even move. It's the horror of being trapped in a nightmare, except you're awake the whole time. It's a demon sitting on your chest, choking the life out of you, and all you can do is pray to wake up.
If you've experienced sleep paralysis, you know this feeling well. The helplessness, the dread, the sheer panic of being a prisoner in your own body. It's a haunting experience that stays with you.
You know it's real, no matter what anyone says. You've felt it, lived it, been terrorized by it. And that's a truth that no scientific explanation can erase.