I have always been fascinated by sleep. Every day, we put on special clothes, lie down on a special bed, and spend hours in a semi-comatose state, subject to visual hallucinations.
Nightmares represent one of the purest fears one can experience. We are bound to a condition from which we cannot exempt ourselves—sleep. Unfortunately, if one is unlucky, fear accompanies this necessity.
I experienced pure terror five years ago, and most likely, I will never experience it again in my entire life due to the pharmacological therapy I underwent. Describing what it feels like during a tonic-clonic seizure is difficult. The scariest part is that you cannot stop thinking about what you are thinking about.
I saw the true color of objects, felt time flowing and killing me slowly, sensed the Earth’s rotation, and cursed my skull as the cage that contained the explosion of my synapses.
Did I experience all this? Perhaps it’s my brain mocking me by remembering it this way. At the end of a crisis, there’s a moment when the wild race suddenly stops, and there is pure silence. That was the moment when I wished everything would start over.
I have died four times already. Perhaps that’s why I’m no longer afraid of anything, and the medications to which I attribute all the woes of my life have nothing to do with it.