A Bad Night’s Sleep

(photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash)

When I was a kid, I had a sleep disorder that I never shared with anyone except my mother, who dismissed it as being strange and inexplicable. It wasn’t until I grew up that I learned it was a known phenomenon called sleep paralysis. It continued into adulthood but became less frequent.

I would wake up, usually in the morning, with my body completely frozen. The really terrifying part was that I could not breathe. I would gradually summon enough strength to try and wiggle one finger, which felt like a Herculean effort that took forever. Once I could get one finger moving, this would gradually unlock my whole body and I could take a breath. The feeling of sheer panic, thinking I was going to suffocate and die, was awful. I was too scared to ask any friends if they shared the same experience in case they ridiculed me.

Once I was old enough to be in a relationship, I was able to explain the condition to my sleeping partner. In the throes of this paralysis, I could muster enough strength to make a muffled cry for help. Then my partner could physically push me to unlock my body. It felt much safer to have a support person beside me.

As a mother, I was worried that my daughter might suffer from the same affliction, but she didn’t. Instead, she would often sit up in the night, open her eyes wide, and have a full one-sided conversation while still asleep. Then she would lie back down and resume normal sleep as if nothing happened. She also sleep-walked on several occasions, which worried me in case she’d leave the house, so I was always vigilant.

My husband has difficulty falling asleep, for fear of not getting enough sleep, especially if he has to wake up early. This is a real catch 22. He inherited this affliction from his mother. He occasionally has to take half a sleeping pill for an early commitment.

The fourth member of our family always needed very little sleep. Even as a baby, he only needed six hours. As a teenager, he would often stay up until two or three a.m. We always thought he had insomnia, but finally we accepted that this was just his body clock, so we gave up telling him to go to bed.

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