It’s time for a confession. I unconsciously do things in my sleep. Its kinda like sleepwalking but usually I don’t get too far from the side of my bed. Sometimes I have a vague memory of what I do. It’s exceptionally rare for adults to sleepwalk, especially if they weren’t sleepwalkers as kids, so I like to think of myself as a medical marvel of sorts.
Now, I had no idea I was this active during my sleeping hours until I got married. These days I like to check in with Steven in the mornings to see if I was up to anything in the middle of the night. I wonder about all the things I must do that neither Steven nor I know about. I also think this may help explain why I’m so tired when I wake up- I’ve been busy doing things all night. I’m just such a go-getter.
You’re probably wondering what I do. So here it is. Feel free to laugh at me or feel creeped out.
A few nights ago I used my phone to do a Google search while sleeping. I searched for “List of Jobs.”
A few weeks ago I got up, opened the curtains and looked out the blinds. The light kinda woke me up. I have a vague memory of my dream making me think I needed to check things out.
Steven tells me I give therapy in my sleep. Common phrases include: “And can you tell me how long this has been a problem for you?” and “That must be really difficult.”
Sometimes I wake up wearing different pajamas than I went to sleep wearing.
One time Steven woke up and saw me just standing by the side of the bed. So creepy. I know. I can’t help it!
Most common scenario: I have a weird experience of dreaming/reality where I realize I’m laying in bed with someone. I feel concerned and worried that #1 I’m laying in a bed next to someone and #2 I’m not dressed appropriately to be seen by someone. I’m not awake enough to realize it’s my husband I’m laying next to and that this is a morally acceptable situation. So, since I’m in bed with someone and not wearing enough clothes I now need to get out of bed and change without waking up the person next to me. I slowly and carefully slide out of bed and squat on the floor, feeling around for more clothing. It’s usually at this point that I realize what I’m doing. I go through this whole routine about once per week.
I know. I’m weird. I’m creepy. Don’t forget, I’m also a medical marvel.