Sleep, Perchance to mutter something ALOUD?

In My Humble Opinion
21

Yeah, Ace didn’t show up to defend plushophiles in the furry thread.

Anyhow…
I apparently make sense when I talk in my sleep (mostly… last week my roomie says I said something about our room having the highest population density per square millimeter). I tend to talk about food (mostly recipes, and apparently most of them sound like they would work). Once I decided that I wasn’t going out in the rain. Once I apparently had a rather involved discussion on pointer arithmetic, complete with hand gestures, but me actually moving around is very rare. Sometimes I give speeches in Cantonese. My roomies haven’t been able to understand me, but apparently it’s pretty distinctly Cantonese.

This is funny, since I haven’t fluently spoken Cantonese since I was seven.
My former roomie is even more entertaining. He’s psychic and delusional. At one point, I was coding up late at night, and he just sat up in bed, threw his pillow across the room into his closet, and went straight back to sleep. He had no memory of it in the morning (I had to tell him where his pillow disappeared to), though apparently he dreamed it was a grenade. Another time a friend came in to ask if the network was down, and he mumbled “It’s been down for about an hour.” I was halfway through confirming that when I realized he’d been asleep for at least an hour and a half. A couple nights later I waited until he was asleep to ask him what the next lottery numbers were, and he admitted he didn’t know.
We were a very colorful room.

22

now that’s just a sig line waiting to happen. :stuck_out_tongue:

23

I am a sleep-talker myself too. Maybe somewhat of a screamer. My mum has been complaining to me that in my sleep I tend to grunt or scream nonsensial syllables.

When I was in the army, my platoon mates remarked that I shouted in my sleep too. Guess that why they had always been giving me funny looks.

24

My SO talks in his sleep occasionally. Usually it’s loud, clear gibberish, like prav’s brother. occasionally it’s coherent. I always try really hard to engage him in conversation, but no go.

Once, when he was heavily into Heroes III, he said loud and clear, “Will you make me into a castle now?” (Heroes played will know what I’m talking about.)

25

I studied French from 7th grade through my 2nd year of college (7 years total) and had become quite conversationally fluent. While still in college and living at home (the state university I attended doesn’t have dorms), we took a family vacation to Mexico, as we usually did every winter. This particular year it was too expensive to get one room for the parents and one for us girls, so we all had to share a single room.

One morning my mother says to me, “Did you know you talk in your sleep?” “Uhm, I don’t know. Why, what did I say?” And she says, “It was the strangest thing. At first I thought you were just talking gibberish, as sleep-talkers often do. But I listened a little longer and finally realized why I couldn’t understand a single word you were saying – you were speaking French!” Ha! Go me! I was actually kindof proud of that for some reason. :slight_smile:

I also used to dream I was on the telephone and when I woke up, I was convinced that the conversations I had had were in real, waking life. I was thoroughly convinced one time that a friend had called and cancelled having me come over to babysit. She wasn’t too happy when I didn’t show up and then insisted that it was because she had called and told me not to, when no such conversation had ever taken place. I hightailed it over there, that’s for sure. I once told whomever I was talking to to “hold on” when my mother knocked on my door to wake me for class. I even had my hand up beside my head as if I were holding a phone to my ear.

26

Hmmm, a few memories.

The scariest one is of my sister. When our grandparents came down for Christmas, they slept in her room - much to my eternal disgust, she shared with me. I was 11, she 9.

Christmas night, I woke up to hear her muttering. I sat up to look at her, she was lying on her side facing away from me, but looked sound asleep. I whispered her name. ‘Hey, Sister! Hey!’ Nothing.

A little louder, ‘Hey, was that you?’

She rolled over. Slowly. So slowly.

When she finally faced me, she had the biggest, most evil grin on her mouth that to this day I have never seen the equal of. I say mouth, because the rest of her face wasn’t smiling. Just her mouth. Her eyes were open, but dead. Blank.

I was considerably terrified for a second, but quickly assumed she was just playing with me.

‘You look stupid!’

No change in expression.

‘Cut it out. :rolleyes: You’re such a child.’

Are you awake?’

She rolled back over with same painful slowness.

‘Hey, Sister’

She stood up, mechanically. Her smile was gone and she looked blank…

"Sister! Are you joking? Are you awake? Hey!

She walked over to my bookcase and began pulling the books out one by one. Each book was rapidly examined and dropped to the ground in apparent frustration. She was muttering, repeating something, but it took a few minutes for me to hear clearly say 'The fairground is closed. There’s a hole in the bottom and it’s leaking.’

‘???’

I tried to talk to her a few more times, but was genuinely a little scared. I took my blanket and slept on the couch in another room.

She has no recollection of this or any similar dream. My parents still think I was making it up.

There are stories about me as well. When quite young, I once apparently wandered into our bathroom and told the mirror (or possibly my reflection) off quite firmly for taking something. Nobody knows what.

A few years later I had to be stopped in our hallway. My father had come out to get a drink and walked through our loungeroom. There he had seen piles of… stuff… by the fireplace. Clothes, toys, school stuff, video games, lots of paintings and drawings on scrap paper. My stuff. Lots of my stuff. He walked towards my room but encountered me on the way. I had an armful of stuff. I had been gathering and carrying my things for what had to have been quite some time. When he took the things from me, I told him ‘Those are for Ashley!’ The only Ashley I knew was a friend of my sister’s whom I didn’t much like. When taken back to my room it was discovered that I had first listed much of what was now out by the fireplace and pinned it to the door. I had also dragged my little desk towards the door, as though I might have been planning on taking the furniture next. They still have the list. :smiley:

I was also, as a few others have said of themselves, always capable of having quite involved conversations with people while I was waking up, but never remembering that they took place. Along the lines of:

"Wake up, Buckler. We’re going out this morning but we’ll be back by 12.

‘Ok. Have fun.’

'Can you put the washing out when it’s done? Also don’t eat the cake in the fridge it’s for So-&-So.

‘Yeah mum, ok. I won’t. See you later.’

‘Be ready to go to the McPeopleton’s for lunch by the time we get back won’t you?’

‘Sure. I’ll be ready.’

‘Bye!’

‘See you!’

The washing stayed in the machine while I spent the morning wondering where everybody was, eating cake and staying unshowered and in my PJs. Nobody was very happy with me. It took a while to figure out why.

Sometimes the opposite happens. I have a dream conversation and spend a few hours acting on/thinking about what was said before I realise that it never happened.

I live on my own now, so there is no one to tell me if I do anything odd anymore. I don’t think the cat cares much as long as I retain body heat while I do it.

Sidenote: My friend and I were really into Starcraft once. We both started having dreams in the format of Starcraft. ‘Normal’ dream stuff happened, but it was all happening on a bird’s eye map, framed with little screens and buttons. Point and click even functioned. Odd.

27

As far as I know, I don’t talk in my sleep. I am, however, the victim in my husband’s sleeptalking/sleep walking escapades.

Often, he’ll just start talking. I have been instructed to recompile my kernel and that I’d need a reboot to get rid of my virus. Sometimes, I can have conversations with him, and then realise he’s asleep. These are often conversations about remembering to do something the next morning, or complaining about loud neighbours outside or whatever. He’ll respond completely normally, and then say something odd, which clues me in.

And then there’s the scary stuff.

One time, he got up out of bed, and grabbed a teddy bear we have from early in our relationship (yeah, we keep it in our room!) and he started pushing it against the wall by the bed, kind of like if he was trying to stop a leak with it. He never said anything, but I kept asking him what he was doing, and then I just told him to get back to bed, so he dropped the bear, got back under the blankets and was sound alseep.

And even more frightening… he has attacked me in his sleep. Apparently I am a big monster or something (he never remembers his dreams, but why else would he be fighting me?) I’ll roll over and suddenly he’ll sit up screaming and start pushing and hitting me, as if he was trying to fight me off. This has happened about 4 times in the past few years. It’s terrifying as hell, because usually I’m only half awake when it starts. He has never really hurt me - just one time, I had a sore shoulder for a couple of days because I had to push him away and I’m just not very strong. We don’t know what causes these dreams. He is not an aggressive or violent person at all. He really just has nightmares and he acts them out.

He’d hate it if he knew I was posting this. Lucky for me he doesn’t read the board:P
A little funnier…my brother once shouted out “Kill the bear, not the deer!” and then, about a minute later, “No, no, it’s a trap! Kill the deer, not the bear!!”

28

Ohh my husband does more active talking/yelling/walking/whatever in his sleep than awake. Tha first time he and I slept in the same be together her yelled at me to give up rights to the property line or he was going to sedate me. :confused: Later on the same night he made some muddled statement about surfing and ice cream.

Recently he was asleep, naked, and I here on the computer in our bedroon. I heard him yell and turned around, he yanked the blanket just over his nether region going “no, no, no!” When the blanket was in place he simled and said"better yet lets better!" OKay.

This is an everyday thing, once I was getting into bed after he was aleep and he was putting his hand to his mouth and chewing, like eating a hamburger. When I sat down he yelled “get back to work!!” Ironically my best friend was over at the time too, in the other room and she was laughing at someone break dancing in her own sleep. My husband’s little girl was in her room talking in her sleep (though she doesn’t really speak yet, the conversion was hard to understand). There was no peace for me, the loner quiet sleeper, that night.

29

:dubious: Wasn’t done but anyway…
My husband has also blacked my eye and busted my lip while asleep. He was rolling over in the bad attacking something, and I was between him and it. Disturbing, I slept on the couch for awhile after that. He also gets really mean when you try and wake him up. Really really mean. Sometimes he kind of remembers and apologizes, others he has no clue.
He even smacks in his sleep. This is so bad, I hate smacking. He doesn’t do it while awake. I have gotten to where I will slap him lightly in the mouth and tell him to quit and that seems to work for now, unless he starts slapping me back.

30

mnemosyne and** mrald ** have me beat but my Wife has several times screaming out in the night in a loud and terrified voice things like:

Get out! or
Get off! or
Who Are You?!? or
NO!!NO!!!

These are things - shouted from beside me in my bed -always in the wee hours of the morning calling me from the deepest sleep - that cause me to sit bolt upright in bedd, heart pounding ready to fight, sweating with adrenaline and then - when I realize she has done it again - not to be able to sleep afterward for hours.
When I tell people about it - esp. my brothers - it tends to make them helpless with laughter and I can laugh about it too and see the humor in it – but deep down I know it isn’t really funny.

31

I don’t talk in my sleep, but my boyfriend says I make “girly sleep noises”, which is apparently an adorable collection of happy sighs and mumbles.

No gibberish conversations or night terrors, though.

He swats me sometimes in his sleep because my hair tickles him and he thinks I’m a bug.

32

I have said such wonderful things as “The lobster is so good” and “I hope that I can get home in time to watch the shows” when asked what shows I claimed “I like colby jack best of all” (especially funny because a girl named Colby lived a few floors up from us in the dorm…

recently I seem to have said “I need a taylor…maybe a little bitty taylor…I can’t afford a real one…” then when asked I said “I only have 50 cents, so I have to get a little one…” and laughed…YAY!

33

I’m apparently a terrible sleep talker. Hubby says I can range from utter nonsense noises to clear but confusing sentences, and I don’t remember a thing.

One time I told him that I didn’t want him to pay off his credit card. I don’t know why.

Often something will come up about zombies, even if I’m not having a zombie dream.

He says sometimes he can get a conversation out of me, but usually it will only last two or three sentences until I roll over or start snoring again.

There is one that I vaguely remember. I woke up, very upset. There was something wrong with the internet, and I was trying to fix it. I wasn’t making much sense, and got very, very unhappy with hubby when he didn’t understand what I was trying to say. That one nearly led to an argument, until I woke up enough to realise that I was talking bullshit, and apologised.

34

There’s a difference? Does this mean I can stop being squicked out when my roommate announces that he’s off to mate his socks?

(I stopped doing that when I was twelve. WTF is wrong with him?)

35

My college roommates told me that I speak fluent Spanish in my sleep. They even got the Peruvian girl from across the hall in to translate one night, but I can’t remember what was being said.

My ex-boyfriend especially loves to tell this one–we were in bed on quiet Sunday morning, and at about eight-thirty a.m., somebody began ringing a cowbell on the street directly below my bedroom window. I rolled over, punched him in the face, and said “Shut up.”