Avert Yon Gaze, Ye Makers of Merry Mocking

Don't look below what I have to say if you have a delicate psyche such as myself. I was doing a project you guys might remember called "In the Pain"? I never finished it. Maybe the thought behind it was not visceral enough for me for the project's namesake. And do you remember when I mentioned making art for Narcolepsy? Well, tonight I have. And I wept a little as I drew my helpless creation, part inspired by the original "In the Pain" intended visual, only put to use in a more frightful fashion, and partly inspired also by my own experiences.

People say things, most of the time not really understanding their impact. We all do it. And I'm not particularly mad about this thought that just pops out of some of my loved ones mouths. They don't see it. They don't know. They don't feel it crawling along, dragging you around by your constantly heavy eyelids. They don't see the darkness slithering in, pressing down, reminding you that you have no real control. And I can go on with this, and on, and on, but that in itself is awfully tiresome. But the thing I've heard constantly from friend, from family, from stranger is " I wish I could sleep like that!"

Do you, really?

She:

"Please, WAKE ME UP!" A silent scream between the realms of dream and awake. She cannot move, although she feels and hears the movement. To her horror, her nightmares solidify. To her partner on the other side of the bed, if he were to wake at this point all he would see are her eyes boring into the ceiling, or they may even be closed. He wouldn't know unless he caught the sight of a tear trickling through her hair, or the small whimper she might be able to manage.

Sometimes when it's particularly awful, she breaks free of the paralysis but is weak and still sees the nightmare, causing her to scream and spasm, until she's rigid again, only this time it's the Cataplexy. Stone once again, she gives up only to dare sleep again in hopes she won't wake the same way. If she's fortunate, her lover is there, to hold her, to soothe her until the monsters fade, then if she feels up to it, he moves her limbs to try to hasten movement and warmth back into her body so she can go about her day. 

It's a wonder she hasn't completely lost her mind yet.

There are even nights that she doesn't sleep. Nightmares and strange epic dreams consume all of her sleep time anyway, no 90 minutes of dreamless rest for this one before she's off again being a male space pirate battling robots in an underground tunnel rigged to explode, but damn it! The sacrifice has to be made!!! As fun as THAT sounds, mostly it leads to anxiety.

Not quite touching base on all of it, but as shown in the above drawing, this is real. There are no sweet dreams for me. There's no real rest, no matter how much I exhaust myself. I'm always scared to sleep and have been since I was young. 

Once again, I'm not mad. I'm just demonstrating that I do not really sleep that well. So don't wish it on yourselves, my dear people, to be Narcoleptic. 

As grim as I may sound, and as sardonic my smile can be, I'm still pretty happy.