The Girl Who Cried Spider

When I sleep talk, there are generally 4 topics that I scream/talk about:

  1. Spiders
  2. Serial Killers
  3. My throat closing
  4. Saying repeatedly “what? why? what? who? what did you say? why?” 

After living together for the past 3 years, Isaac has grown accustomed to me running into his room at 3am and screaming “MY THROAT IS CLOSING I CAN’T BREATHE!” or “please help me, there is a giant spider in my bed!!!!”

The first few times, he jumped out of bed to check my breathing or would run to my room to find the “big spider in my bed.” After awhile he realized that my throat was never closing and there was no spider. Now when I run (yes, I always run) into his room and start screaming, he will either tell me to go back to bed or roll over and ignore me until I wake myself up due to my own hysterics. Upon waking up,  deep shame and embarrassment wash over me and I tiptoe back into my room. 

Last week, I sleep walked seven times in one night. SEVEN! Only two of those field trips took me to Isaac’s bedroom, thankfully. I’m not too sure what the other five entailed but they ended with me waking up in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror. Talk about a horror story, I should start setting up cameras to record my sleep walking and make a Paranormal Activity 4.

So last night I went into Isaac’s room because I was nauseous. Admittedly, I was not fully awake but I definitely wasn’t completely out of it either. I told him I was really nauseous and he did his standard rollover and pretend I’m not there move. With my head hung, I left his room and went to lay down on my bathroom floor for a few minutes. I kept saying to myself “he will come in any moment and offer me some crackers and water.” He never did. In fact I’m pretty sure I heard him snoring across the hall 2 minutes later. 

This morning Isaac chuckled and said to me “do you remember sleep walking last night?” I replied “I wasn’t sleep walking actually, I felt really sick. I sat on my bathroom floor for awhile after leaving your room.” His grin faded and he said “oh, I’m really sorry. I thought you were asleep so I ignored you.” 

Of course I can’t blame the guy, why  would  he believe me when I run into his room screaming about fake spiders, illnesses, or serial killers almost every week? It did make me realize one potentially scary problem: what if one night I am having an allergic reaction and can’t breathe, or there IS someone breaking into the house? Why would he stir from his slumber to help me? I’ve even been known to lie in my sleep and say “I’m not sleep talking I promise!” Scary.

Maybe we should come up with a complicated question for Isaac to ask me when I appear to be sleep walking, something that I can easily answer while awake but would become confused by in my sleep. I can picture it now:

Courtney: Isaac, somebody is breaking into the house!!

Isaac: Okay, what is the name of your first grade teacher and what school did you attend?

Courtney: Mrs. Cannon at La Mesa Elementary

Isaac: Okay sweetie, let me get my gun!

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