I don’t know whether it’s because I’m trying to quit smoking, but I have had a few real weird dreams over the last few months.
Basically, I seem to be ‘awoken’ by some physical transgression, which for me seems to consist of physical attack by, dare I say it, an incubus (although it’s not sexual) or attack dogs (for some reason).
When it happens, I seem to come to in my bed and end up trying to resist some attack on my person. But I’m always paralyzed; I can’t fight back. While, when it’s happening, in some dim corner of my semi-conscious brain I know this is a bad dream, it still feels pretty real. After all, muscular paralysis is an indication of REM sleep. I think it’s weird that for some reason I’m semi-conscious and I that realize that I’m semi-conscious. I always end up wide awake afterwards wondering ‘What the fuck’.
I can see how the legends of the incubi or succubi ‘arose’. Maybe if I didn’t have some knowledge of the ‘physiology’ of dreams, I’d be yelling demon too.
Why doesn’t some hot succubus molest me? It might be less traumatic to semi-wake up to that experience instead of attack dogs. Has anybody else had similar experiences? Must I start smoking again to banish this demons? Are they employed by Philip Morris?
When I’ve shouted before this happened to me, I do. But I always have that REM sensation sometimes. I’ve noticed there’s a difference, though, depending on whether my pillows are turned with the open end of the pillowcase facing the wall or facing away.
For some time now, I’ve kept the open end facing the wall.
I’ve had similar experiences, even though I’ve never quit smoking. I don’t smoke in the first place. It happened during a period of time when I was having a lot of out of body experiences that occurred spontaneously while I was asleep. Thing is, I never actually got anywhere. I would wake up in the middle of the night and try to do something like turn the fan on if it was warm, or try to change the station on the radio ( I was always falling asleep with the radio on ) and nothing would happen.
One night, I woke up and crawled off the end of my bed, fell off and landed on my head. I woke up the next morning and fully expected to have a sprained neck and shoulder, but nope, I was fine.
In the morning after these experiences, I would realize that I had left my body, and if I had realized at the time I wasn’t wearing this damned carcass, I could have had a lot of fun, flying around, spying on people, whatever…
My advice is to go back to sleep.
The trouble with Sir Launcelot is by the time he comes riding up, you’ve already married King Arthur.