Sleep paralysis is a mysterious phenomenon that occurs in that transitional stage between waking and falling asleep during which a person becomes completely immobilized. During these episodes, people may hear, feel, or see things that are absolutely terrifying and panic-inducing. Regardless of their best efforts, they’re momentarily powerless to break free from an almost catatonic state. 
Since sleep paralysis often occurs on the absolute edges of dreaming, it’s something that’s difficult, if not impossible, to properly define or explain. How can you put rhyme or reason to something that occurs on the fringes of consciousness? Even though our knowledge of dreaming or semi-dreaming only scratches the surface of what might be going on in that complex world, it doesn’t prevent people from trying to understand it. After all, knowledge is power and might lead to a cure.
Dream researcher and educator Ryan Hurd writes, “Experienced by millions as supernatural assault, sleep paralysis (SP) often includes realistic, and often frightening, hallucinations that are projected into the waking world.”
Sleep paralysis often suspends the sleeper in a semi-dream state. They might be awake and aware of their surroundings but otherwise completely frozen, leaving some to wonder if they’re actually dying, experiencing an out-of-body experience, suffering a panic attack, a stroke, or even being kidnapped by aliens. Many report seeing frightening black shadow men, some with red eyes and elongated clownish grins. Others are all black, three-dimensional with an authoritarian “hat man” leading the charge. Indeed sleep paralysis sufferers have reported witnessing all manner of frightening ghost-like images; some even claim demon visitations by the succubus and incubus. The succubus is a female demon believed to have sexual intercourse with sleeping men, and the incubus is the male version of that.
During these “hellish experiences” many hear sounds such as door knocking, a thumping sound like an imbalanced washing machine, humming, hissing, static, zapping, buzzing and roaring. People also experience out-of-body sensations, numbness, electric tingles, tickling, and feelings of being dragged out of their beds or flying. Along with hallucinations, some experience pressure on the chest and difficulty breathing. Still others report flying through visually stunning colors and through some sort of a time warp and into another dimension.
And while it scares the hell out of many sufferers, the cause of sleeping paralysis is a matter of debate. The internet is full of videos and online blogs on the subject and it has taken on an almost cult-like following. 
Many theories have been thrown at the wall: sleep deprivation, psychological stress, abnormal sleep cycles, diet, lifestyle choices, a dysfunction in REM sleep, even the result of being a victim of a violent and abusive upbringing.
Whatever the cause, I myself have experienced many episodes of sleep paralysis, long before I knew there was even a clinical definition for it or so much information available on the subject.
One night not so long ago, I was deep in an REM sleep. I remember having a series of mini-nightmares; demented people chasing me; monsters attacking me; people yelling and screaming in pain. Just my usual garden-variety night-time mayhem. I think it happened during the last nightmare in the horrifying series. I was in the woods, running away from a demented inbred-looking hillbilly who was chasing me with an axe. Precipitously a realization swept over me that I was in a nightmare. No problem, I thought. I got this. I stopped, curled up on the forest carpet, thinking I could just stay there for a minute or two, open my eyes and will myself awake and back into the comfort of my bed. After all, I’d done it before. But as I lay there trying to get my breathing under control, I heard the attacker’s footfalls growing louder, snapping twigs on the forest floor as he neared. Then suddenly he was directly above me and I could just feel his evil presence and evil intentions like a black tsunami wave.
“I got you now,” he said.
Then he crunched the heel of his boot onto my lower back and I felt a surge of hot red pain course up my spine. I tried to move. I couldn’t. I tried to shout out. I couldn’t. His boot pressed harder into the small of my back. “I bet that hurts. What I’m gonna do next will really mess you up.”
As the fear began to rise, I struggled to free myself. But it was no use. I was frozen to the spot, sleep paralyzed. I tried again to shout out, but it was useless. Not even a raspy whisper. Finally, after multiple strenuous attempts, I woke up. You might be thinking at this point, I was sweat-soaked, heart pounding out of my chest, terrified out of my wits. Yes, admittedly I was a little scared. But not terrified out of my wits. I might have been. If it was the first time. Problem was, it wasn’t the first time and I suspect it won’t be the last. I have been having nightmares for as long as I can remember, many of them accompanied by sleep paralysis. Sometimes my own voice wakes me up. Other times I struggle but eventually free myself from the immobilized state.
Initially my nightmares and sleep paralysis would render me terrified. But, since I seemed unable to escape the sleep paralysis demons, I realized I had to find a way to cope. I read many books on the subject and finally found one that helped me. It was so long ago I don’t remember the source. In essence the theory was that our nightmares (even those that include tormenting sleep paralysis episodes) are actually our subconscious minds processing information, working while we sleep to rid ourselves of the daily stresses of life, solve our problems and indeed cleanse us of negative energy. 
According to the theory, the catharsis of sleep paralysis ultimately brings peace. It just has a strange way of doing it.
Maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy, but it helped. Waking from my sleep paralysis and nightmares, I would examine them in the context of a therapeutic healing mechanism, talk myself into feeling cleansed, refreshed and rejuvenated and then go back to bed. After some time, I discovered another coping mechanism. Some of the nightmares, while horrifying in many ways, were indeed extremely lucid and colorful and I would awake and remember clearly many details, including entire verbatim conversations. So, before returning to bed, I would write the details down and file the information away. About six years ago, when I realized my calling as a horror writer, I turned to this file for story ideas. I found dozens and dozens of great ideas. Much of my books are inspired by my nightmares and I believe by writing them down and expanding on them, in some weird way it has freed me from my inner and outer demons. The exercise has not only liberated me from the terrifying nightmares and sleep paralysis but also endeared me to them in an inexplicable way. Now, although some of my nightmares do scare me somewhat, I manage to find the courage to embrace them on some level, if not in their entirety. Writing novels became my way of liberating myself from my demons. Weather we want to admit it or not, I suspect we all have inner and outer demons. To live a happy and productive life, or at least put ourselves on that path, we must find a way to defeat them; or in my case embrace them and simultaneously defeat them. Doesn’t fear give rise to demons and even empower them? Beat down the fear, in whatever way you can, and you’ll be transformed into a healthier mindset. Find whatever justification or crutch you can and hang onto it. As humans, that’s what we do. Explain, rationalize, discuss, understand, categorize and try to cure.
There are many examples of this in Rodney Ascher’s unique hybrid documentary and horror-thriller, The Nightmare. Combining surreal bedtime scenes, a creepy musical score, eerily underlit cinematography, and bone-chilling scare tactics, Asher examines the lives of eight people who’ve suffered from sleep paralysis. Connie Y. is one of them. She speaks of her sleep paralysis episodes—being frozen in utter terror, surrounded by a horrifying, icy cold, dark evil presence. “It feels like what death would be like,” she says. Although she started out abhorring religion, during one particularly terrifying sleep paralysis episode, she called out the name of Jesus to save her. After He answered her prayer (if you want to call it that), she became a devout Christian, married, and wanted little to do with sleep paralysis discussions, maintaining she wasn’t in that space anymore where she felt the need to analyze or address it. Her new-found faith had led to her salvation. She called out the name of Jesus. He came and banished the evil presence from her life.
Another person in The Nightmare claimed that after having a particularly vivid and terrifying experience during sleep paralysis, he stopped being an atheist.
While many sleep paralysis sufferers seek medical help, including psychotherapy, psychiatric treatment, sleeping pills, anti-depressants, and other medications, others outright reject the notion that it is merely a physiological sleep disorder, believing strongly that it is the manifestation of some otherworldly powerful and malevolent evil force. In the end, these beliefs have led them down paths that in some cases have lessened or eliminated the episodes entirely.
I’m not sure anyone can adequately explain the cause of something so mysterious; a phenomenon that occurs during a little-understood transitional state of consciousness called hypnagogia. Wikipedia defines hypnagogia as “the experience of the transitional state between wakefulness and sleep in humans: the hypnagogic state of consciousness, during the onset of sleep. Mental phenomena that occur during this ‘threshold consciousness’ phase include lucid thought, lucid dreaming, hallucinations, and sleep paralysis.”
With all that lucidity, to my mind it’s about as clear as mud. I couldn’t tell you if the condition invokes evil supernatural forces, aliens, or other dimensions. I know my episodes feel very real in a weirdly surreal sense, and at one time were extremely terrifying, even debilitating. But not anymore. I subscribe to the notion that sleep paralysis is my subconscious mind’s way of taking out the garbage. 
And since I adopted that theory, just as Connie turned to Christianity, my episodes are far less frightening and far less frequent than before. Now I feel much less fearful about going to bed at night. Not only have I—in some measure—overcome the fear, but I feel psychologically in a much better place (of course some of my friends might disagree). Now, sleep paralysis serves as a gateway to creativity and inspires multiple story ideas. And, thanks to those dirty little demons, I’ve found my passion and calling in life. Hmm…I think I have a new idea for another new horror novel.
Millions of people suffer from sleep paralysis. Do you? Please share your story with me. I hope it has a happy ending.
Sweet dreams.