Unconscious Idiot
The first thing I saw when I woke up today was a text from Iko: "Go for a walk in your sleep babe? Front door was wide open this morning!" There are few sensations weirder than your waking mind learning that your body has acted unconsciously. It feels like you're being gaslighted, but instead of having a person to target for your panic and fear your tormentor is an idiot that lives in your skin. That, and the dawning horror that this stranger has potentially taken you stumbling senseless and naked around the beach in the wee hours with the bats and raccoons.
Everything is suspect now. When I go to prepare my morning coffee, I find the container of cream is open. I just bought this cream yesterday! Did I open the cream in my sleep? Maybe Iko opened the cream. Maybe it was open when I bought it-- dammit, should have checked!-- and now I have a container of cream that some weirdo spiked with ketamine or something. I check my feet for sand or other evidence that I have been wandering. No clues there. I'm really tired, is it because I've been out haunting when I thought I was sleeping? Were we robbed? No, our meager valuables are still here. Raided by nocturnal animals? Doesn't look like it. What if I liberated Otis the hedgehog in my sleep?! I run to his cage to make sure he's safe. Of course he is safe. Perhaps I just left the door open when I went to bed. No, it was closed when Iko went to bed, I remember! Ah, but memory is not to be trusted, remember? I try to calm down. If I did open the door in my sleep it's likely that I didn't leave the house. I tell myself to stop being silly and get on with it. But I can't shake the off-kilter feeling: what else has this idiot done?
Because, of course, I have done this before. Specifically this activity, I mean; I've woken up with my front door wide open. It's been a few years, but then as now it is a chilling experience. The last time this happened I had fragmented memories of dreaming that my pet cat (which I no longer had) was outside and needed letting in. The scary bit is that I lived in a 2nd story flat with two separate sets of unguarded stairs; it's a wonder I didn't tumble down them and break my neck.
Somnambulists, while typically benign in their meandering, have been reported to carry out activities from eating and cooking to sex, driving and homicide. My father never reported that I did any sleepwalking as a child. I can only surmise that somewhere in my 30's took up the pastime. After years of sharing a bed with me Iko reports that I definitely sleepwalk, though not frequently. He's found me asleep all over the house and once watched me try to climb the wall in his room. There is usually alcohol or anxiety involved, but not always.
I really don't care what causes it. Mostly I wish that my unconscious idiot were more interestingly intentioned and did something productive with her time, instead of pointlessly endangering those I love and myself.
Everything is suspect now. When I go to prepare my morning coffee, I find the container of cream is open. I just bought this cream yesterday! Did I open the cream in my sleep? Maybe Iko opened the cream. Maybe it was open when I bought it-- dammit, should have checked!-- and now I have a container of cream that some weirdo spiked with ketamine or something. I check my feet for sand or other evidence that I have been wandering. No clues there. I'm really tired, is it because I've been out haunting when I thought I was sleeping? Were we robbed? No, our meager valuables are still here. Raided by nocturnal animals? Doesn't look like it. What if I liberated Otis the hedgehog in my sleep?! I run to his cage to make sure he's safe. Of course he is safe. Perhaps I just left the door open when I went to bed. No, it was closed when Iko went to bed, I remember! Ah, but memory is not to be trusted, remember? I try to calm down. If I did open the door in my sleep it's likely that I didn't leave the house. I tell myself to stop being silly and get on with it. But I can't shake the off-kilter feeling: what else has this idiot done?
Because, of course, I have done this before. Specifically this activity, I mean; I've woken up with my front door wide open. It's been a few years, but then as now it is a chilling experience. The last time this happened I had fragmented memories of dreaming that my pet cat (which I no longer had) was outside and needed letting in. The scary bit is that I lived in a 2nd story flat with two separate sets of unguarded stairs; it's a wonder I didn't tumble down them and break my neck.
Somnambulists, while typically benign in their meandering, have been reported to carry out activities from eating and cooking to sex, driving and homicide. My father never reported that I did any sleepwalking as a child. I can only surmise that somewhere in my 30's took up the pastime. After years of sharing a bed with me Iko reports that I definitely sleepwalk, though not frequently. He's found me asleep all over the house and once watched me try to climb the wall in his room. There is usually alcohol or anxiety involved, but not always.
I really don't care what causes it. Mostly I wish that my unconscious idiot were more interestingly intentioned and did something productive with her time, instead of pointlessly endangering those I love and myself.