Tag: sleep

Dear Reader,

I want to talk to you about a phenomenon that has been part of my life since I can remember myself: Sleep Paralysis.

Sleep paralysis is a condition in which a person, either during falling asleep or waking up, temporarily experiences an inability to move or speak. This is caused by a disruption in the sleep cycle—specifically, when the body remains in REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep while the brain becomes conscious. During REM sleep, your brain paralyzes most of your muscles to prevent you from acting out dreams. But when the mind wakes up and the body doesn’t catch up, you’re stuck in between.

“Sleep paralysis occurs when a person passes between stages of wakefulness and sleep. During these transitions, you may be unable to move or speak for a feNightmares are vivid dreams that contain frightening images or cause negative feelings such as fear, terror, and/or extreme anxiety. If awakened from REM sleep during a nightmare, the sleeper can usually provide a detailed description of the dream content. The nightmare can cause the sufferer to awaken in a heightened state of distress, resulting in perspiration and an elevated heart rate. Often it takes time to recover from the negative emotions invoked by the nightmare and the person may have difficulty returning to sleep.”

— Stanford Medicine | Health Care

For me, these episodes are more than a medical explanation—they are deeply vivid and often terrifying. I’ve had moments where I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. One night, I saw a creature looming near me—its face burned into my memory. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. All I could do was whisper in my head:
“I’m here. I’m okay.”

There are nights I wake up gasping, my body frozen while my mind races. After one episode, I remember only managing to sleep for about thirty minutes before deciding it was safer just to wait for the sun to rise. The fear can be so raw, so physical, it lingers in my chest for hours.

In those moments, what brings me back is the sound of a voice or the feeling of someone beside me — a partner gently waking me up, helping anchor me in reality again.

I’ve often thought about writing a song about these moments. Not just the fear, but the surreal beauty of that liminal space between dreaming and waking. It’s hard to capture in words, but maybe this post is a start.

If you’ve ever experienced sleep paralysis, I want you to know you’re not imagining it. You’re not crazy. And you’re definitely not alone.

Sincere,

Yours Viktoriia ❤