My sleepless depth
hey, I've never spoken about this as I always couldn't put it to words, or begin to describe the things I'd see every night and throughout the days...I didn't sleep a night until I was 12years old. Every night it felt like I couldn't switch my mind off, or make it stop. I'd close my eyes and see more than I could ever explain or describe. More than with my eyes open. More than just this world. Now I'm 28 and it being a daily/nightly part of myself I guess I've lived with forever. I close my eyes and see everything. Every colour there ever was or could possibly be, all rapidly vibrating in microscopic geometric prisms, in every sense and dimension. From every perspective and magnified to the point of seeing in overwhelming detail every particle of air inside and out. Every particle consists of a kaleidoscopic hive of geometric prisms with how I can only explain as every single possible colour beyond any spectrum imaginable disected into microscopic portions, broken down to fragments of raw light, as if the origin of light itself, to a point moving like cogs and a giant multi dimensional sphere of endless breathtaking clockwork mechanisms made up of all of the above in every shape, colour, dimension, angle, movement (extremely fast and terrifyingly slow motion at the same time?) to the point of zooming into a fragment spec of a zillionth of what any of this is and seeing thousands of numbers, again in a multi perspective, dimensional and complete weightless sense. A void of absolutely everything and so much more, though somehow it makes sense. Like dissecting layers to the point of these insane numbers, with the numbers are shapes or Unknown (to me) letters/numbers than I've never seen before. This part is pretty...to describe it is super unjust...it's like you're inside a computer screen? But way deeper than that...way way deeper and higher, total disconnection from the body, I can see behind my eyeballs and the curvature of their lenses. It's terrifying and beautiful. When consciousness somehow tugs, whenever it decides to, it's like a melodic optic wormhole rapid zoom out/travel backwards from all you've delved into. Every layer, colour, shape and all there ever was or could be. Like a bungee cord retracts and pulls you back out, with your eyes and sight facing foward, like you're being sucked out and are watching ahead(if senses and directional matter exist) like when you ride a train that's traveling the opposite direction but you're sat facing the 'wrong way' like you're traveling light years and seeing every last drop of detail faster than your mind could ever dream possible. Sometimes it stops and sort of suspends you in a void of whatever place you're suspended in. You get a feeling that you (you're body or eyes or self or whatever it/you is) completely stop, still. A feeling of floating in a void. Totally weightless directionless and motionless yet the cogs and geometric shapes slowly keep moving, in extreme slow and gentle motion. Then they start to morph and form faces/objects/landscapes/scenes/tiny molecules of everything that could ever be or ever was. It's like a deep understanding or breakdown of every realm and everything in it and beyond. Faces of unknown people/creatures/other worldly 'things' moving, expressions change. It's slow or rapid. Sometimes so fast you feel like you're dying...I can only put to those words, not that I'd know death. Often with that, voices enter. Noises. Sounds. They are both excruciatingly deafening and unnervingly silent at the same time. So loud you can't escape it yet you can't even hear it?! Voices of senseless noise. Not a language because there's no sound but it's all you can hear. But you understand and process it. Again at lightning speed. The noises aren't human or from matter. Those I can't explain. Through all of this my eyes are wide open but feel closed, I only realise or am conscious when i feel a huge thud to the heart, like someone punches you with huge force or like an adrenalin shot to the heart. You remember to breathe and that breathing is a 'thing' everything disperses but is still there now appearing as tiny dots. Coloured ones and ones of pure light. All above and around. It's exhausting and feels like you've being venturing for lifetimes. Amidst these visuals I always had this other strange occurrence, every single night the room around me would get rapidly terrifyingly huge and giant, and then the extreme opposite. Tiny and microscopic. Far away and so distorted. A perception kinda thing. It would do this so uncontrollably you fear it won't stop. It keeps you in the big, close, giant room for time and then spits the room round to the far away tiny microscopic suffercating sensation. From slow and long to violently fast and rapid. I remember the worst times was always when it would switch between the two in milliseconds and do this for an amount of time which felt eternal. My heart felt like it was exploding. That's when I'd run from my bed and to my old dog and dad, not knowing how or what to describe so I'd say I was having a bad dream. I'd curl up, cover my ears and head and try to shake it out of me. It never would. Nothing made it go, it just stopped whenever it did. I'd lie completely shaking uncontrollably. There was a texture thing too. A big ball that was sickeningly smooth and of vile perfection and it would rapidly morph into the roughest most hideously sickeningly violent texture. Again switching. I could feel and taste it. Hear it. So loud and so quiet. Every sense feeling every sensation of absolute nothingness and the nothingness of every possible thing...but all in my head. Or eyes. Or around me. It was everywhere and nowhere never and forever. There was no escape and I never ever spoke to another being about it. Until writing this. I didn't sleep until I was 12yeats old because this happened to me every single night. I wasn't scared of the dark because these things would be all around me( the colours and stuff aside from the room perspective stuff) I would walk around in it. I so vividly remember and can still see now, I'd walk around in the pitch black house at night, but I wasn't seeing the house or wherever I was, I started walking in what I could see. Following and exploring in it. I was never afraid of the dark because I'd be safe in the colours and tunnels. I guess I started playing with/in them because if I tried to fight it, the room thing would happen and that was the dark place for me. The illusion of 'this' world. It started happening to me in the day times, at school, if I sat and stared out. if ever my mind wandered, which was most of the time. My parents thought I was just a sleepwalker and had terrible sleep problems and blamed sugar or my hyperactive mind. I was always so aware and in control when I played in the dimensions and realms with the colours. I trusted them and used to call 'them' my friends. I let them guide me, I just wandered inside them. Super aware of it. It became my playtime. I don't remember them stopping but apparently at 12 I slept my first night sleep. Guess I stopped playing in the night. Or something blessed me with sleep? So I rarely get the room perspective thing now, sometimes I do but it doesn't scare me necessarily. However I see everything else. All the time. I can focus it and 'try' to see more. It keeps me awake every night. If I close my eyes it's all I see. It never stops. It never 'goes away' it's always all around me. I feel it forever. It's exhausting and until now I kinda figured it's just what's behind everyone's darkness and closed eyes...I guess not. The strangest part for me is reading about it, which I just did right now for the first time ever in my life as I'm back at my parents house and something mush have triggered my mind into awareness of it and also curiosity of that strange thing that used to keep me awake relentlessly as a kid. I found some similar words about some pre-migraine stage called 'aura' but I've never ever had a headache in my life. Nothing. Ever. No migraine. Not even a headache...if anyone has any...idea/thoughts That could help me understand what this thing is that happenes, or is a part of me, I'm down to hear it. It's all I see. I can't stop it, I can sometimes control how deep to go with it, but it's not me. Or you. Or anything we know. And it's everything. It's so much more than these words I've just written. Thanks for reading Villa