Chapter 1: My Encounters with Sleep Paralysis

Sleep paralysis has long been a source of intrigue and fear for me. I often find myself contemplating this phenomenon, especially since I have had numerous experiences, none as vivid as my most unforgettable ones.

One vivid encounter took place when I was 20. It was around 5 a.m. when I suddenly felt paralyzed, surrounded by strange, dissonant sounds reminiscent of voices from a broken radio. Just last night, I had a similar experience—though less terrifying—prompting me to question whether such occurrences are commonplace.

A few years back, I faced another disturbing event. I woke up unable to move, my eyes barely opening. In the dim light, I noticed a dark silhouette near my bedroom door, slowly moving toward me. Despite my attempts to recite protective prayers, fear hindered my ability to articulate them clearly.

Summoning my courage, I addressed the ominous figure:

“Please, I’m exhausted and need to rest for work in the morning.”

After what felt like an eternity, I was freed from paralysis. I immediately reached for my phone to call my dad at 3 a.m.—but there was no answer. Frustrated and drowsy, I decided to drift back to sleep, only to be startled by a knock on my door.

It was my dad, looking disheveled yet concerned.

“Why are you calling at this hour?” he inquired.

Too groggy to explain, I asked him to wake my older sister, whose room was across the hall. I was too frightened to be alone.

Without hesitation, he roused her. She joined me, fully aware that my late-night calls always signaled something serious.

Around 5 a.m., my sister rose to prepare for work. As she closed my bedroom door and returned to her room, I felt a shift on my bed, as if someone had just gotten up. My heart raced.

“Did someone just leave my bed?”

I was still half-asleep, but the sensation was strong. Nevertheless, I quickly fell back asleep.

At 7 a.m., I woke, showered, and got ready for work. As I pulled back my curtains, I noticed my bedroom window was wide open.

“Ahhh, that explains it,” I thought.

Heading to the kitchen, I asked my mom,

“Did you open my window yesterday and forget to close it?”

“Oh yes,” she replied with a chuckle, “I was cleaning your room and wanted some fresh air. I forgot to close it, thinking you would do it.”

My reaction was simply, “Thanks, Mom.”

I firmly believe in securing all doors and windows at night—not just to keep animals out, but to prevent any unwelcome entities from entering. Leaving them open invites the unexpected, as my mom always warned me. Ironically, she was the one who left it ajar.

I still vividly recall that dark figure, though the memories have faded somewhat after 14 years.

This was my journey with sleep paralysis. I've come to understand that it often strikes during moments of vulnerability, stress, or exhaustion—a reminder to prioritize self-care and stay aware of my environment.

What are your thoughts? Could this be a scientific phenomenon, or does it lean toward the paranormal?

Chapter 2: The Science Behind Sleep Paralysis