The first time it happened, I was in my 30’s. My husband was working away from home. I went to bed at my normal time and had no trouble falling asleep. The next thing I remember is waking up with the absolute certainty that I was about to die. Someone was in the room with me, slowly moving toward my bed. I started to scream and realize I couldn’t. Paralyzed, unable to make sound or move a muscle, I felt like my heart would explode from fear.

Whatever the window illuminated, it continued to move closer to the bed. I felt the weight depress the bed as the crawled on the mattress. My heart rate was through the roof, and my biggest terror was for my children. Had I been drugged? Was this why I couldn’t move? Not even my pinky finger. What had this person done with my kids sleeping throughout the house while I lay drugged? I desperately tried to break the hold the paralysis had on me. Whoever or whatever it was was beside me in the bed, but just out of my line of sight.

Then, I felt them start to choke me. Helpless, paralyzed, unable to make a sound, and now I could no longer breath as well. Along with mortal terror came a primal fear of the presence of pure evil. Some rational thought pierced the terror for a moment, and I remember having thought that if I could call out the name of Jesus, I might survive. I screamed his name in my mind, and suddenly I was free from the paralysis.

I bolted from the bed and turned on the light. Sweaty, shaking, and gasping for breath, I could see that nothing was in the room. I ran to each of the kid’s rooms. Not content to see them in their beds, I put my hands on them to make sure they were breathing. I still couldn’t calm down. I had no idea what that was, but that was no nightmare. Exhausted, but unable to fathom the thought of sleep, I logged on to the computer. All sorts of weird things about haunting and demonic episodes flooded my computer screen.

That didn’t feel right, either. I am a Christian, and I wholeheartedly believe that there is spiritual evil in the world, but nothing I read felt like what I had experienced. I finally added some new words to the search string, and on maybe page 6 of the search results, I came across the term sleep paralysis. The cold, clinical terms used on the medical web site did little justice to the horror of the event.

Digging a little deeper, I finally found others sharing their stories of the same phenomenon. It wasn’t exactly like mine, but close enough that I felt some peace that it was what I had just experienced. Knowing it had a name gave little comfort, nor could I dispel the horror of the evil that had been in bed with me.

It was months before I would sleep in my bed alone. It happened again a few short weeks later. Only minimally less terrifying since I knew what it was. Since then, it has become a regular occurrence in my life. It is most common if I take a nap during the day — so naps are a thing of the past. By now, it has finally lost the ability to terrify me. However, the sensation of being unable to draw a breath invokes panic even as I tell myself it isn’t real.

I have learned some coping skills. Calling on the name of Jesus will sometimes break the paralysis for me. Other times, I can semi-calmly focus on moving just one finger. If I can manage to wiggle one finger, the paralysis breaks, and I am free.

Now, it happens most commonly just as I am drifting into sleep. I can hear it coming. A weird rushing noise comes from every direction, then the inability to move and the sensation of being unable to breathe. It seldom gets far enough that I sense the evil in the room moving toward me.

I have done tons of research on the phenomenon. The official medical explanation is that it is a symptom of your body not moving smoothly through the stages of sleep. During REM sleep, our bodies are paralyzed so that we do not actively act out our dreams during this stage. That is why those of us who have sleep paralysis have the sensation of being unable to move. There is a list of risk factors for developing sleep paralysis, such as narcolepsy, the use of certain medications, sleeping on your back, etc. I have none of the risk factors.

Throughout history, the event is described with eerily similar terms. Legends to explain have popped up and include “the old hag,” and “the hat man.” I can understand how, without access to modern medicine and instant internet communication, people developed legends to explain the phenomenon.

I understand the rational explanation for why calling upon Jesus’ name breaks the paralysis. I know it is my faith and belief that He will protect me from the evil that allows me a modicum of control over the event. However, the part that remains a mystery is why all sleep paralysis episodes are so eerily similar across cultures and varying beliefs. Even non-believers report the absolute feeling of evil and impending doom. So, why do I, a Christian from the bible belt, have the same experience in my sleep as a Muslim from Africa, an atheist from Iceland, and a Buddhist from Asia? Obviously, our cultural conditioning is vastly different.

For those who have sleep paralysis, you will understand exactly what I mean. For those that do not, there are no adequate words to describe the horror and terror you experience the first time it happens. However, knowing it had a name and that it wasn’t something unique to me, did offer some comfort. If you want a real understanding of what the event feels like, you can watch “The Nightmare,” a 2015 documentary about sleep paralysis. A terrifying but fictional movie about sleep paralysis is “Dead Awake.”

If you have experienced sleep paralysis, I would like to hear about your experiences and what you have done to cope. Sleep paralysis can occur in children as well. I cannot imagine how horrible it would be for a child with no frame of reference for understanding what is happening to them, and perhaps not even the words to describe it.