If you experience sleep paralysis, you’re likely familiar with its associated hallucinations. These include—but are not limited to—pressure on the chest, out-of-body sensations, and most notably, the feeling of a dangerous or frightening presence in the room, more commonly known as your “sleep paralysis demon”.
Frightening is a strong word. Have you ever thought about WHY this presence feels so frightening?
After all, what’s so dangerous about letting someone get close to you?
Now, I know what you’re thinking:
No, no, my sleep paralysis demon is scary! I can’t possibly talk to him. What if he makes fun of me, or laughs because I stuttered or something?
And anyway, I have plenty of reasons to fear him! Duh!
Well, let’s look at the facts, shall we? Your sleep paralysis demon is about, what, 8.5 feet tall? That’s a plus if I ever heard one.
He stares at you from the corner of your room with his glowing red eyes. Okay, so he has a staring problem. So do most old people!
He’s the same color as a black hole and sometimes he hisses at you like a balloon losing air. Alright, black holes and balloons, two things that are objectively cool.
And he’s there every night. He never leaves… ever.
Hm. Can you say the same for your friends from college, who have normal eyes and are flesh-toned?
Didn’t think so.
Now, what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your sleep paralysis demon?
Ugh, I just wish he would go away!!!
Well, that’s pretty freaking rude, considering you don’t even KNOW the guy. How would you feel if someone thought that about you??
Has it ever occurred to you to just talk to him?
In our modern, technologically advanced society, the chance to TALK to other individuals has reached an all-time low. Even stoplight cameras just take your photo and send you a ticket in the mail! 
Why? Since when did having a conversation become so scary?
Is it really your fear of small talk, or are you afraid of getting hurt again?
There are things out there way scarier than your fear of intimacy, you know. Like cancer or being trampled by a herd of rogue moose. Get real.
If you talk to your sleep paralysis demon, the outcome might surprise you. What if he’s just like everyone else?
What if he’s… different?
Next time, after he finishes brushing your face with his two-times-too-long fingers and making that clicking sound (not to be confused with the hissing), ask yourself this:
What’s stopping you from making the first move?
You could say hello, for starts. Or, hey, what are you doing, that’s my face!
He might say hello back. You might be surprised that he has a peculiarly sexy voice. Not a growl, but more like a gurgly snarl. It’s kinda hot.
He might say he’s seen you here before. A couple times.
You might say, really? Haha, I didn’t think anyone noticed me.
He might say that doesn’t make any sense.
You brush it off. You see he’s blushing. It’s really obvious because he’s literally the personification of darkness.
What’s wrong? You ask him.
Nothing, he says. I’m not used to this. It’s just… no one’s ever talked to me before.
This shocks you to your core. Could you imagine being so alone? You can, actually, because of the whole fear-of-intimacy loser thing. This breaks your sympathetic little heart… and turns you on.
If you talk to your sleep paralysis demon, you might find that he’s a great listener. You might find that he understands the intricacies of your issues with your parents, and agrees that yeah, your boss is a weenie. You might find that he’s actually really good at crossword puzzles, has a dry sense of humor, and wants to learn needlepoint (he saw some people doing it in the 1700s once). You might find that he’s curious, an avid learner, and an old soul.
Oh, and also, you might find that he’s not a hallucination at all but actually an interdimensional being (luck of the draw) who’s been waiting for someone to set him free for thousands of years.
Someone like you.
What are you? You ask him.
The man of your dreams, he says.
After talking to your sleep paralysis demon, you might find that the rest of your life gets easier. You start wearing blouses again. You tell your boss to suck an egg, and you finally start working towards your dream of becoming a full-time lounge singer. You live out your days knowing there’s someone out there who understands you, likes your original music, and believes in you.
You might learn that you love him, and I don’t mean like a brother.
You might learn you’re into suffocation.
You might just find the answer to your prayers.
The next thing you know, you’re taking him to meet your parents in Escondido. He steps through the house with the red door you’ve known all your life. You snicker, remembering when you brought home your college boyfriend, Justin, for the first time. Jesse, who promposed to you on the doorstep, and Josh, who actually took you to prom. God… What’s Josh doing now? And what’s happened to Jesse since you harshly rejected him? Is that the sort of thing that makes an angsty teen a serial killer? No, right?
Your SPD barely fits through the doorway, but it’s okay. He leans and makes an awkward face, a lot like the one he usually makes with the intense, gaping stare and bared teeth. Oh yeah, he’s also got long, pointy teeth. He’s so cute. He’s so good at adapting to the physical world. And he does it all for you.
Can I tell you something? He asks, sitting at dinner with you, holding hands under the table. Your parents are hiding in the kitchen.
Of course, you say.
It scares me too, you know, he says.
What does?
Doing human things. Eating your mom’s chicken lasagna.
You look at him with a wistful tear in your eye.
That’s okay. We all have to face our fears sometime.
And then you share a smile, while your dad prays and your mom thanks the powers that be that you’re bringing someone to Christmas dinner. A win-win, if you will.
So the next time you’re worried that your sleep paralysis demon is about to take your soul, remember this.
If you just talk to him, you might learn something new. He could be everything you’ve ever wanted. He could be more.