(Sleep)walk And Talk With Me

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“There’s a komodo dragon on the ceiling! THERE’S A KOMODO DRAGON ON THE CEILING!!!!!”

 

This began my journey into sleepwalking, or at least the sleepwalking that I know of. I never thought I sleepwalked until I came to college, mostly because I never shared a room with anyone as a kid (huzzah for being the only daughter at home) but also because I don’t believe my sleepwalking became worse until I experienced true stress. And as we all know, college can definitely be stressful. (finals week, anyone?)

 

So when I came to college, I would hear stories of what I had done in my sleep. “Did you know what you did last night?” became a common morning question. Usually whatever happened involved some sort of animal (usually of the exotic variety).

 

The first time that I knew about my sleepwalking happened my freshman year. I decided to go to bed early because I’m secretly an old woman, while my three other roommates stayed up and studied. I was dead asleep after lying in bed for a few minutes, but after a while, I sat straight up in my bed and exclaimed, “THERE’S A KOMODO DRAGON ON THE CEILING! THERE’S A KOMODO DRAGON ON THE CEILING!!!”

 

Ever since then, I have realized that when I’m in situations where I’m stressed or in a new place, I have more of a tendency to sleepwalk and sleep talk. Another time that this happened was when I went to New York City. A friend and I had traveled there together, and I decided to sleep on the couch in the living room. I had a dream that there were ants all over the coffee table, so I got up from the couch, lifted up my arms over my head, and slapped the table until I was confident that all the ants were gone and would NEVER return. DON’T MESS WITH ME, EVEN WHEN I’M SLEEPING.

 

Even if I don’t always remember why I did the things I did, the aftermath in the morning can be just as interesting. Just this past week, I’ve found that I’ve moved my bed almost a foot away from the wall and one of my posters has been ripped from the walls.

 

I guess sometimes the best sleepwalks are the ones you can’t explain.

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