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.

Whoa, Nelly!

It's a myth that Narcoleptics sleep ALL the time. We simply don't get the restorative 90 minutes of solid sleep time in between dreams like other do. Sometimes dreams happen while awake! Last night I was unable to sleep a wink. Not because I wasn't tired. Ooooh, boy, was I tired. Just couldn't get my mind to stop racing, or my eyes to close. I took my meds in hopes that this major sleep deprivation doesn't impair me too harshly today. However, I keep getting these fun little waves of silliness in between zombie states. BEHOLD!

I may get wild later after I down a pot of coffee and draw this cool idea my husband came up with the other night. Now as long as I don't get the wiggins (hallucinations and cataplexy) I should be cool. Here's to hoping! (raises coffee mug)

Sleepy Hollow

I've been thinking a lot about doing drawings inspired by a condition I have. I have Narcolepsy/Cataplexy. I've come to grips with a good bit of it since childhood but there are still some aspects that bother me deeply. With medication and naps, I can somewhat deal with the loss of sleep at night and the excessive daytime sleepiness. I think it's been helping with how my body responds to stress as well, so much that my cataplexy seems under control for now. The thing that still effects me though, are the hallucinations. Auditory and visual. Hypnogogic hallucinations occur because of how close to sleep a person with narcolepsy (PWN- looks like I'm PWNING somebody, mehe) is most of the time. Dreaming while awake, you see.

So if I were to draw how it feels to be a PWN, I think it'd be a bit therapeutic. Putting my horrors on display in a creative format might change the way I look at my hallucinations. Might change how people view Narcolepsy. We'll see. 

I have a friend who's a nurse now, but some time ago she had to interview someone with a condition for her class in college. The one question I clearly remember is if I thought that Narcolepsy inspired my creativity. I'd never thought about it before that question but I'm inclined to believe that it does. With all the crazy dreams I have (mostly apocalyptic, post-apocalyptic in nature) it is hard to ignore what my subconscious wants to show me. Everything is so strange, vivid, and intense. It can also be horrific. Shadow creatures are what I see the most when I'm not actually sleeping. The more stressed out I get about it, the more of them I see until they solidify into terrifying clarity. 

Ever since I could remember and up until my late teens, I took to heart everything I saw. While most kids imagined a creep in the corner in the darkness, I was actually seeing that creep. That creep was moving around my bed, then touching me. But as an adult I came to realize that if I were to think through these experiences, become curious and analyze what's going on instead of running headlong into fear, that the hallucinations tended to recede some. So with this curiosity, comes the thought for artwork. 

I sometimes wonder if I would have such a vivid imagination if it weren't for Narcolepsy. But then, I think it's irrelevant. Even if they came up with a cure for it, I'm sure that it's been so embedded in my psyche that I wouldn't forget how to tap into my creative side. 

For now I'm going to go work on Autumn so I can finish her and put her up in the store. Pictures soon.

In the meantime, if you're curious about Narcolepsy/Cataplexy check out this. And don't ever ask me to pronounce hypnogogic. Just can't wrap my brain around it.