elavil and sleep paralysis?
written two days after the experience. this took place between the hours of 12:30 and 6:30 a.m. saturday, august 13. i had been taking this medication for a couple of weeks. i began at 25 mg for a week, then went up to 50 mg for the second week. i was due to increase it to 75 mg a day the day after this happened. obviously, i didn’t do that. also, there was no alcohol involved.
it is dark quiet imaginary & medicine goes down and sometime near one a.m. i find myself in my bed open laptop in front of me–i am staring at a huge library of music and nothing is playing the evening into early morning hours viewed like a film w/the guts missing and all are random scenes–random times–non-linear perhaps over-lapped surprisingly shameful and frightening. one a.m. i am sitting on the edge of the foot of my bed staring at the dark television screen covered in small sheets of dust and i have a bottle of lotion in my lap & i am squeezing small piles onto my arms and rubbing them into my skin into translucent pools & the hair is matted & soaked but i suppose the smell is pleasant. two a.m. i hear barking dogs in the other room & moments later i am hearing voices outside my window and after investigating i see that it is nearly four in the morning & my timing is fucked the only visitors outside are roaches & shadows and small unimportant gusts of wind. three a.m. back in my bed and the songs are gone from the screen have been replaced by giant amounts of pornography that i don’t remember opening but are very real and each contained in their own separate perverted window world–cunts cocks tits orgasmic melting movies and cum-shots dripping from the lips of nameless actors and actresses and by now i have no idea what time it is. my clock says 3:20 but it could be one a.m. or five in the morning–who knows, but the sun is still in hiding. four a.m. standing far back from the toilet & mindlessly pissing on the bathroom floor–aiming for the toilet but not even coming close to appearing as anything more than evolved than a drunk barn animal. i only remember that at the time i certainly wasn’t concerned with that. i was awake. i know i was. i could have thoughts. i could control thoughts. but nothing mattered. maybe that was what death was like. i remember a mind so blank or foggy that this action made perfect silly sense. five a.m. sitting on the side of my bed missing clothes and staring at my dick that is red & raw like i had masturbated while wearing sand-paper mittens. it hurt to touch and maybe i had jerked off for ten hours with no success but don’t remember how i got there or anything. maybe i had spent half an hour slamming it in the door. i don’t recall. but it hurt so bad. at some point it became six-thirty a.m. & then there was no point in attempting to sleep. i was dressed then in shirt & boxer shorts and there is a small puddle of vomit that is white & drying to a crust on the sheet near my pillow. i can taste the post-vomit acid burn in my throat and realize that i had eaten some of the lotion but no idea how much but could definitely taste the lotion underneath my tongue. the sun is rising and i am thinking that i have been awake now for twenty-four hours because there was no way i had slept through all of that shit from the past few hours as the evidence of everything was everywhere or maybe it was all a hallucination or medication sleepwalk nightmare semi-meltdown. it was also then that i began to have concept of time–from then on thru the rest of the day and i am an exhausted zombie w/yesterdays memories having occurred some time weeks before. this is the strangest shift in thinking that occurs at some point when normal folks are resting quietly in bed. those couple of hrs before i went to work were a senseless wandering around a silent house, chain-smoking outdoors, intense fear and clouds of guilt for probably no good reason except that it might have just been a small comfortable feeling and at that point i was willing to take any sort of comfort–no matter how horribly uncomfortable it happened to be.
i suppose the most frightening part of all this was not being able to tell what was real or not, or understand why i was doing what i did. i am convinced that i was awake the entire night, judging by the fact that for the most part i was able to keep track of time…but i apparently never left my bedroom. i could have been awake, or asleep. i have no clue. and that still fucks with me. badly.