Good Evening Brothers and Sisters,
As is custom, I believe an introduction is in order. If I seem a little familiar in the approach of my speech, let me say that I feel I know many of
you, or at the very least, understand the spirit of this board. For you see I have lurked in the background for some tens years, never having felt
like I needed to join the conversations, simply reading all this site had to offer was enough. That was until a few days ago, to which I ask that you
offer your thoughts on the coming story.
Before that, a little about me. I am a father and husband. I am in my mid-30’s and my knees are in their mid-50’s. I enjoy many of the topics here
but remain largely skeptical of the more fantastical elements. I am a Christian, for which I’d like to paraphrase C.S Lewis; that you may better
understand my beliefs. “I believe in Christianity, not because it is therapeutic but because it is true”. I am a huge Motorsport fan (primarily
F1).
With that, I invite you to read the event that prompted me to join ATS.
I should start my story with a point towards the use of “maybe” in the title, I use “maybe” simply to highlight that this event could have
just as easily been a dream, in this matter I will let the reader decide.
Now dear reader, the topic at hand - for which I shall provide a little context. For the longest time I have been what some may call “a sufferer of
sleep paralysis”, a label I would not argue against. Although a common feature of my nocturnal life, irregardless of emotion tone, the higher the my
daily anxiety, the more likely sleep paralysis becomes.
I am currently in an anxious period of my life, I will save the details aside to say; my mind is at its most restless before sleep. To overcome this I
use prayer, last night was no different, as such, this is how the whole event started.
Restless, I begin to pray. After about 15mins of prayers, I drift into that soup of hypnagogic consciousness. Suddenly I hear a loud bang, then a
stream of high pitched rushing, like water through a whistle. I am paralysed. My prayers continue. I feel no fear, quite the opposite, I feel
comforted, as if a warm blanket coats each cell of my being. I notice I am slightly misaligned. The thing that I feel I am is not quite centred with
the thing that I actually am, like a puzzle piece not quite slotted into its rightful place.
At this point I decide to try getting up. I seem to have four arms. Two where they ought to be and two where they ought not to be. With my
out-of-place arms I push up from the bed, I feel a tug in my chests. It is uncomfortable but not painful. I try again. It is not clear what happened
next but I’m sure my pursuit worked because now I am “above myself” - I quote “above myself” here because it actual felt like I was below
myself, as if the room had flipped and I am now looking up at where I am or if you prefer, where have just come from.
The most striking thing about this part is just how murky the world appears. It’s as if I am squinting at myself through a pair of dirty spectacles.
The room feels cold and dark, devoid of any vibrancy. I feel slightly panicked now. My breath picks up it’s pace. I can still hear the prayers. A
dream begins, a real dream not the drunken malaise of consciousness I just experienced. In the dream I am embracing Christ, he tells me he loves me. I
then “wake up” but am not really awake, it’s the hypnagogic soup again only this time I am not misaligned but tangled. It is not clear to me if
I am laying down or sitting up, whether I am on my bed or about it, I may have four arms or ten, all I know is each is wrapped unnaturally around
me.
At this point I awake for real. I roll over, think for a moment about what just occurred before quickly falling back into a dreamless
slumber.
edit on 20-10-2023 by JungAnon because: Grammar
edit on 20-10-2023 by JungAnon because: Title