It was December 1997 when my husband, Paul, and I had our own place together. It was an apartment on Lillibridge Street in Lincoln, Nebraska. At some point in 2000, I woke up in the middle of the night. The clock read 3:37. A heavy pressure pushed on my chest and I panicked, ever so slightly. It had happened to me before. It happens to me still. It’s a result of sleep paralysis.
Sleep paralysis occurs as a natural part of REM sleep. It can occur when falling asleep or upon waking. I am only familiar with the latter and it lasts several seconds to minutes. Practically speaking, it is the most terrifying feeling I have ever experienced. Regardless of knowing what it is, there is always a sense of fear.
You struggle to move anything more than your eyelids, causing a panic to set in. You are acutely aware that nothing is moving, but you’re concentrating every fiber of your being to move something, anything. A fingertip. A toe. Your head. But nothing happens. You feel your heart beat faster and faster. It’s a futile effort.
Despite not being able to move, you can see and hear and feel. Tears drip down the side of your face and come to a rest at the opening of your ear. You can’t clear the liquid away. Panic and nausea set in. I can slow my breathing down and rationally calm myself until I either fell back asleep or my body and brain were working together again, but the dread is always there.
It had been some time since it gripped me until 3:37 a.m., that morning. I woke up and immediately tried to calm myself, but there was something else. Something I saw out of the corner of my left eye. The pressure on my chest grew and my anxiety increased. I desperately tried to move my arms. They remained on the bed, useless.
My head moved a fraction of an inch toward the bedroom door. There was something there. A figure standing in my doorway. I tried to yell, but couldn’t open my mouth. I wanted to shake Paul awake, but could not move. I tried to moan to wake him up, but there was no vibration in my vocal cords. I panicked some more.
I could see my chest moving more rapidly. I could hear the sound of my own breathing, the air flowing from my nose. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I must be halfway between waking and lucidity.
“I’m still asleep,” I told myself. “This is just a dream.”
Convincing myself that it must be a vivid dream and the figure must be pareidolia from the patterns on the bathroom door, I slowed my breathing and managed to turn my head and open my eyes. The figure loomed in my doorway. I stared at him and he at me. I couldn’t see his eyes. There were no eyes. Just blackness. It was all black. His top hat, cape, shirt, pants, boots. They were all black.
I tried to yell again. I tried to move my body, but it was trapped. My mind could not overcome what kept me motionless. I closed my eyes again, squished them tight. When I opened them, the figure was still there.
I began to think this wasn’t sleep paralysis and someone had broken into our apartment. I still could not move. Irrational thoughts mixed with rational ones as to what was actually happening. I wondered if the figure was going to kill me and leave Paul alone. Perhaps he would kill Paul and then me. Maybe he just wanted a cup of coffee.
The figure appeared to take a step into the room when it turned and walked toward the living room.
“Who the hell was that?” Paul asked me.
My head turned to the other side of the bed and I looked at Paul. I jumped up and turned on the lights while Paul took the baseball bat from the side our bed. We walked into the living room, but no one was there.
The lock, deadbolt and two chains were still affixed on the front door. The balcony door still locked.
One of the most common reports with sleep paralysis is the feeling that something or someone ominous is there. But Paul had seen it, too.
Jennifer Schaaf Harms
This happens to my daughter, too.
Deb Carpenter-Nolting
Part 2?
Paul North
I remember this!! What ever it was stood in the doorway but as soon as I saw it it turned right and “ran” off. When we put the lights on and went into the living room there was nothing. I heard no doors open or close and everything was locked. Still don’t know what it was to this day.
polly
I have had a similar experience too. I was outside cleaning cat litter trays. It was early and I was not thinking of anything except my forthcoming breakfast. I picked up the washed and dried litter tray, turned round to take it into the house and there stood my brother-in-law, but I could see right through him. I was too stunned to speak to him. Apparently, at the time, he was in a coma, and he died a couple of days later.