My hallucinations have been fairly predictable over the last few years. Frightening yes, but also predictable. Usually they play on my fears that my house is invaded. I hear doors opening, light switches clicking, sinister whispers. As scary as these are (and I'm very aware and thankful that in comparison to some peoples experiences, they are tame) I've learnt to accept them and like most people use pets (in my case an easily excitable Labrador) as a gauge of concern. I know that if there's no movement from the dog, then I'm pretty much OK. The fear remains, but rationalisation takes the edge from it. Tonight was different.
Tonight I woke hot. I'd misjudged how cold I expected to be and had gone to bed wrapped in too many layers. Whilst kicking off a blanket or two, a sound caught my attention; smashing glass. Instantly fear grabbed at my body, with a cataplexy heaviness pulling me into the mattress. I lay there for a while, thankful that my children are sleeping overnight at their dad's. Scenarios race through my mind, which I struggle to stop and rationalise. Come on get a grip, how many times have I been here before? I deliberately quieten my mind and concentrate my attention upon the dog. What's he doing? There's movement. Lots of movement that I can only imagine is an excited welcome to a new friend. And whispers. No please, this can't happen. This can't be real. More movement; paws dancing upon the floor accompanied by the occasional thump, which I imagine is a tail catching on furniture as it wags enthusiastically. More whispers. Oh god, this is real. The cataplexy heaviness intensifies and reaches my mind, clouding my thoughts. My heart is racing, mouth dry and I feel physically sick by the situation I've found myself in. More hushed words. I imagine my intruder stroking the dog in attempts to calm and quieten him. I'm desperately trying to make my mind work; think what to do, however fighting the cataplexy is making me drowsy. More movement and an adrenaline spurt sharpens my mind. I've got to do something. I can't just lie here.
My first thought is to the call the police. I always sleep with my mobile charging next to me at night, so dialing 999 should be easy enough. How long would it take for help to arrive? What could happen in the mean time? Drowsiness is pulling at me again. Cataplexy and adrenaline are fighting one another for space in my mind. More movement. A creaky floorboard. Adrenaline promptly wins, releasing its grip upon my body and mind a little. I quickly recall where the loose floorboards of the house are. It's an old house and there are many. Is my intruder downstairs or on the first stair step? I need to do something. Either I risk my intruder coming to me or I go to them. Which is better? I can picture my intruder standing over me, whilst I pretend to sleep. Maybe its better to try and scare them away. I mentally check what items in my room could be useful and decide the only thing I have is hairspray. More movement. I will myself to move a leg, it resists. Move leg, move. Climbing out of bed slowly and quietly, I head to the door grabbing my weapon of choice en route. This feels like the bravest thing I've ever done.
I'm on the landing and the door to my left is open. Did I leave it open when I went to bed? I don't normally. I make my way around the house, systematically checking every room, corner, cupboard. The windows are all in tact. The locks still firmly in place. The dog barely raises his head to my unexpected night time presence. And yet again I have been fooled by an hallucination.
I'm jittery from the shock and the nausea remains, whilst I sit here typing this. In fact the reason why I am sat typing this at 2am, is because I'm now scared to go back to sleep. I know that sleep will take the fear and it'll manifest into some form of bad dream or nightmare.
The reality of being single with narcolepsy is sometimes difficult to deal with. I miss the reassurance of having another adults presence. My ex would never entertain my hallucinations and generally tell me to just go back to sleep. However, his mere presence was reassuring. Focusing my attention upon our family pet was my only replacement for this. I hope my hallucinations haven't adapted. I have always been thankful that I could tell what was real and what was fake with my previous, predictable ones. I never thought I'd say this, but I'd like them back please.
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