A Story of a Sleepwalker

The first time I fell asleep, I had no idea what to expect. I had heard about the phenomenon before, I just never realized how utterly disorienting, and potentially dangerous, it could be.

But it is addictive. It has already become my favorite hobby. It is a relatively risk-free pastime, as far as I can tell. There are risks. Like putting your head on a narrow, thin pillow at the foot of the bed. Or falling asleep on a couch while drunk. Then not waking up for hours in a semi-conscious state, or worse.

But for me, getting caught while sleepwalking is highly unlikely. I've been sleeping for nearly a year now, and I've yet to get caught. The few times I did, no harm was done.

I first sleepwalked while alone in my bedroom one night, in the summer of 2014, nearly one year ago. I had only been sleeping for a few weeks. My old friends say I look totally different, and they're right. I keep a journal of my experiences with sleepwalking, and I am amazed at how it is so different every time. So this is the first time I am sharing my journal. Most of my experiences are so similar, even though they took place over such a short period of time, that I like to keep a daily record of what I do.

April 1, 2014:

It's a hot and sunny day in Florida. I've been walking out of my bedroom for about three weeks, and I am now an expert on how to do it. I woke up this morning and absolutely do not have the energy to get up and walk back to the bedroom. Instead of taking my usual route, I go straight to the living room, which is connected to the kitchen. Then I try to find a way to the living room. I am extremely sleepy, but I am exceedingly nervous. I have developed a habit of walking out of my bedroom via the hallway on the right of the upper bedroom. I know that is my route because that's where the staircase is. I've accidentally walked out the front door before and avoided surveillance cameras, thankfully. It is considered a ground fault circuit interrupt device, or GFCI, and it must be installed by the installer. Otherwise, if you touch it, you can shock yourself. I keep that information in the front of my journal, so I can avoid taking that route as much as possible. I'm pretty sure I did it once before. I sidestepped that one and scrambled up the stairs hoping to avoid surveillance cameras and cameras out the front windows. I made it, but this one is slightly more difficult. I must first go outside and check for surveillance cameras, then the upstairs of the house and check for cameras. I must then put my head up the outside perimeters and see if I can see outside on the upstairs, and see if I can detect any cameras in or around the first floor of the house. Only once I am sure I am alone can I do just about anything. For some reason it doesn't always work, but as long as I am reasonably certain I have avoided the cameras, I can do practically anything.

I creep through the house in my pajama bottoms and a shirt, careful not to wake up. I am about to open the refrigerator door when I realize there are probably cameras inside. I try the freezer next, and I find a bag of chicken. I carefully take it out and look for cameras. I don't see any, and decide to put the chicken in the microwave. I set the timer for 1 minute, and the ping of the microwave is oddly soothing. My stomach is rumbling and the smell of the chicken is suspiciously irresistible. I had a hunch there was a bag of fried chicken in the freezer, ever since I had woken up for the first time. I was in the same room, but it seemed like I was coming from another room. I saw the bag of fried chicken, and remember how good it smelled. I searched for a camera, then opened the bag of chicken and began to eat. I must say, my first attempt to eat a few pieces of fried chicken was more disturbing than any of the situations I had earlier.

The microwave beeps and the timer reads 1 minute. I have just over a minute left before I have to run back to the bedroom. I can't go now, because I don't want to go sleepy. I'm determined to find a way out of this predicament. There are plenty of exit points around the house, but if I'm to know, I have to know where I'm going. I look up the walls carefully and see some things that look like gaskets and other things that might be cameras or sensors. I exit through the neighboring window, and must scan vertically first. I can't control myself, I am so hungry. I keep on eating and I forget where I am. The sun warms my exposed skin. I don't even realize my pajama pants have dropped to the grass. I eat slowly, and finally, I see the camera. I follow the cord out of the front of the house. I think I'm in the clear.

So there's a camera. That doesn't mean there's a camera out of the living room, and another at the foot of the staircase, where I've fallen asleep multiple times before. I can't even remember how I wake up, but sometimes I wake up and remember how I get to the bedroom. It involves skidding slowly or laterally along the stairways. It depends on whether I am too tired to go up or too awake to go down. I may be too tired to walk around the house back to my bedroom, but perhaps still awake enough to crawl.

I step outside the staircase that led me to living room, and look up it carefully. I can still feel the warmth on my skin, and I can still smell the chicken inside. I step onto the first step cautiously. When I fall back into the house it's chilly, and I can feel the cold rush me. It's like I've been asleep for hours, but I know I have only been asleep for a few minutes. I am no longer tired. I try the front door, and it opens only slightly. I try it again and it opens easily. I can see outside, and it is warm.

I realize I am not alone. However, I can't quite see anyone yet. It is clear out and the sun is bright. I look up the steps and see the door. It is the third step from the top, and it is cracked from the inside. I know I have to go up the steps, but I don't see why there are cameras along the walls, to watch who goes up the steps. Instead of going the opposite direction of the downstairs cameras, I instead start to climb slowly up the staircase, feeling the coldness. Instead of turning left, I stay straight and go up the steps, fixating on the next handhold. I am completely exposed at the moment, and I am flying. I am scared now, as much as I was when I first started sleepwalking. I have never been caught yet, but the way I am moving up the stairs, it seems possible. I am comfortable, but I must hurry up the steps. I can make it. I must hurry, and try to reach the next landing before the camera flips back on and I am caught. I think I might have made it, but I am not sure. The camera is not pointing directly at me, but I don't know if it is related to me.

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