One morning, I woke up in a panic. Racing to the kitchen, I fearfully exclaimed to my abuela, "se me subió el muerto." Once I had her attention, I began to retell all of the sensations and strange feelings that overcame me during my sleep the night before.
I felt like I wasn't alone in that bedroom.
My body was paralyzed, yet my brain was fully aware of the environment. This horrific experience left me confused, reluctant to rest, and fearful of my own imagination. The scariest memory of the whole ordeal was not even the paralysis...but the auditory hallucinations.
An indistinguishable muddle of voices that I heard the previous night had chilled me to the core.
Without hesitation, she said that something was sitting on me. This was her reason as to why I couldn't move.
The spanish phrase I used roughly translates to "the dead is on top of me." Immediately, you may picture staticky shadows and glowing demons that only show themselves in the corner of your eye. Your imagination may whip up the image of a ghostly specter that holds you in its grasp, or a growling monster hiding in the corners. The amygdala keeps you sweating, and you are stuck in a nightmare.
For centuries, sleep paralysis beings have continued to haunt the living.
So, what is the origin behind this saying?
In Mexican culture, scary stories are commonly told within the community. All throughout my childhood, I begged my father to tell me the scary stories that he had from his pueblo. My favorite radio show that I still replay on occassion is "La Mano Peluda". Callers to the show recant their supernatural experiences on the air, and sometimes their stories were pretty unsettling.
When I told my family that I experienced sleep paralysis, it was usually associated with a sinister cause. The shadows or figures that are always hallucinated during these episodes are said to be spirits of those deceased. The spirits lay on top of the person, leaving the sleeper unable to get up.
My second episode of sleep paralysis was just as unexpectedly terrifying. In high school, I took a nap almost every day in the cold living room of my house. No one was home, so it was the perfect spot to get some rest.
During one of my routine naps, I awoke suddenly. To my horror, my brain was active but I realized that I couldn't move again. My body was stiff, and it felt like a heavy rock was thrown onto my chest.
No matter what I did, I could not open my eyes. My mouth refused to open, not even a sentence was able to escape my lips. While my mind tried to piece together what was happening, it felt as though an invisible force kept me locked down to the blankets. I would feel my arms being touched or my ears would pick up a mumble of whispers across the room.
Interestingly enough, these episodes lasted all throughout high school and didn't stop until I was halfway through college. Even though it is believed to happen because of spirits, it explained as a reaction from the body when your brain awakes first from REM sleep. The muscular system stays inactive, which can be as long as a few minutes.
What I didn't know, was that it is mostly common in adults or those who suffer from narcolepsy. Sleep paralysis is essentually a hiccup in the body's transition from dreaming to wakefulness. Even though I found the scientific explanantions for my fears, I can't help but feel spooked by what had happened.
Should I be reassured that my sleep paralysis was probably caused by some stress or my abnormal sleep patterns? Probably.
But, maybe the spirits are coming to say hello after all.
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