I applied for the position of Sleep Disorders Guide because my husband suffered from severe sleep apnea and it was a contributing factor in his death. I'm sure that, although it was never diagnosed, my grandfather suffered from sleep terrors. His screaming in the night used to terrify me when I was a child and spent the night at my grandparents' home. My grandfather could never recall his dream when he woke up. My son is almost thirty and he still suffers from the occasional bout with night terrors.
I was quite smug about the fact that I didn't suffer from any sleep disorder. Now, after reading numerous accounts and doing hours of research, I discover that I do indeed suffer from a sleep disorder, albeit not as disabilitating or life threatening as sleep apnea. Furthermore, I have probably suffered from this disorder since I was a child.
Once in a while, I'll awaken from a sound sleep, and find I'm completely unable to move. I seem to be paralyzed and sometimes I feel as though a heavy weight rests on my chest. I have trouble breathing. I struggle and fight, trying to move, but to no avail. Then I finally get a finger to wiggle, or I manage to jerk my leg. I drag in a deep breath of air, and I'm fine again. The paralysis is gone. It's a terrifying experience. I have always thought it was just the remnant of a bad nightmare.
One summer I experienced a floating or flying sensation in accompaniment with the paralysis. At the time we lived in a mobile home. A long hallway stretched from the front to the back of the building and I could feel myself, sometimes drifting slowly along just below the ceiling. At other times I felt like I was hurtling up and down the hallway at break-neck speed. I was suffering from a great deal of stress at the time, and a month later was hospitalized with bleeding ulcers. Possibly the stress caused the sleep problems.
When I was a child, I remember waking up with this same sensation of paralysis, and I would also see a figure crouched beside my bed. I would fight until I could move, and then I'd start to scream. My dad would come in and comfort me. He told me I'd just had a bad dream and he'd sit with me and stroke my head until I went back to sleep. Many times, even though Dad was there, I'd still see that figure crouching by the bed. I guess I was hallucinating. My mother had no patience with my foolishness and swore I was putting it on to attract attention. Not so! I was really terrified.
