Living With Hypnagogia

Hypnagogia

The Greek word for hypnos,

Early references to Hypnagogia can be found in the earliest writings of Aristotle.

Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear
William Shakespeare
Midsummer Nights Dream, Act II, scene 2

I want to share with you, the horrors of a chronic sleep disorder, I want to share you with my nightmares, my hallucinations, and the nitty gritty details of what it is to have Hypnagogia.

If you are curious about lucid dreaming, the feelings of a fear so deep of not understanding, astral projection, things of a mystical realm that are unlocked by a persons ability to open such cavities in the brain. Then I invite you, to read my stories this is not fiction, this is my reality, as fiction as it may sound.

I want to educate the every day insomniac of the pain and pressure of chronic insomnia, coupled with hypnagogia. I would love for you to understand me.

I am going to inform you of what you may not understand now, so you will understand it in later

entries, just some of the terror that I deal with, on a day to day basis.

Symptoms :

Tetris Effect

When the activity includes moving objects, like in the video game Tetris, the corresponding Hypnagogic images often tend to be perceived as moving, the Tetris Effect is not confined to visual imagery.

Sleep Paralysis: Occurs when REM antonia sets in quicker than usual

Sounds: Hypnagogic imagery is often auditory or has an auditory component, just like the visual hypnagogic sounds vary in intensity, from faint impressions to catastrophic crashes and bangs, Hypnagogic speech may manifest as the subject's own inner voice. / So, why put this in the horror section? Because it is terrifying, beyond your realm of understanding, beyond destiny, beyond faith, there are things that go bump in the night, but you can't explain them, even though you've made them up with out knowing. Step into my space, uncertainty befalls you as it has befallen me, which puts us exactly on the same page. Follow me into my waking nightmares, my lucid dreaming, accidental astral projection, sounds of scratching, hissing and groans of the guttural night.

I'm not dreaming, I wont wake up, and neither will you, there is no REM sleep here. Here there is only fear, and insanity.

(Some information given taken from wikipedia but reworded by me.)

"Only when I am on the brink of sleep, with the consciousness that I am so."-Edgar allen poe.

The room was dark, the hour was early, I always tried to sleep before the witching hour as it would hopefully pass with out my notice, but that was never the case, I always noticed. I kept my room nearly barren of trinkets, posters, things of witchcraft and alters,

no religious artifacts hung on my walls of any kind.

I knew they would come, with out my consent. These were not demons, These were hallucinations. Ten thirty ticked by, wide awake I hid under the green comforter that was mine, atop a memory foam mattress in a quaint day bed.

The walls were the supposed calming color of green, the closet across the room had old wood seventies styles doors that terrified me when the lights went out.

I was convinced, there was something lurking there. Through the crack of the unclosed closet door. It was broken, had been for years, allowing the shadow of its darkness to peek out and spy on me.

As I dreamed, as I did not dream. I breathed silently and rolled around in fury. Every night was the same, every day was the same. It effects you no matter where you are, and the less sleep you get the worse it becomes.

Tick.

The sound came from the air, it came from the shadows, and was very small, I awaited its arrival. Knowing it would come, as it always did, but when was always different.

Tick.

Breath on the back of my neck, I jumped and hit my head on the artfully crafted metal bars of the day bed, a hissing sound from the hallway, my heart sunk into my my stomach I thought I would digest it if it didn't return to its rightful place.

Scratch.

The muscle in my foot cramped, I cringed, and stretched ever so carefully, could this possibly get worse? Yes, yes it could. Almost as soon as I wondered I received my answer, closing my eyes, hiding in the dark, in the dark, was futile. Strings of color

intruded upon my darkness.

Nights upon nights, I fought. I lost, and I coward. Insanity. My reality, there was no savior in the sky for me.

There were no demons in hell more threatening than my own human mind.

I sailed through this borderland of sleep, awake, and terrified.

Your Serotonin is the substance that interacts with your brain chemistry, it produces perception, the pineal gland is located exactly where the ancient VEDIC literature places, the "Third Eye."