Andy X
AWOL
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2014
- Messages
- 3,195
- Location
- Larch Forest
An odd thing happened to me last night on trying to get off to sleep which I then remembered having occurred a few times before, but have never got around to discussing in the wider world.
We all know it's impossible to recall the exact point at which 'wakefulness' gives way to sleep, but I've noted that in my case, before succumbing to the nothingness before dreaming, I often have very 'trippy' and abstract thoughts about multi-dimensional forms, shapes that are sounds, colours that are multiplying numbers and vice-versa...and deep (but sometimes unrelated to my 'real life') emotions as I drift off. Nothing unusual about all that, I suspect.
What doesn't usually happen though (except on the odd occasions that are the subject of this thread) is that before everything goes a bit psychedelic, as described above, I find I can 'see' through my closed eyelids: that is, I can still see (only if I've conked out before turning out my bedside light) the room around me perfectly well, but as if viewed through a thin membrane. The nearest thing I can liken it to is closing one's eye's in blazing sunlight on a summer's day and still being able to see a vague impression of the sky and the orb of the sun - except that this is a detailed image of the room, not a blurry impressionistic scene; the titles of books on the shelf are perfectly legible, for example. My feeling at the time is that I'm 'seeing through my eyelids', that this is the 'real way to see', and that it's totally normal. If the lamp on the other side of the room has been left on it will appear to be on. And so on.
Presumably this is due to a recent visual memory that gets 'pasted in' as the conscious mind is still struggling for dominance. Whatever the explanation, it's strangely relaxing yet quite thrilling when it happens, and no doubt it is commonly experienced, (though I've never heard anyone else describe it). I can't remember with certainty if it's ever possible to move my eyes or head to take in more of the scene, but my murky old recollections suggest that I'm probably comfortably paralysed at the time.
Has anyone else enjoyed this interesting hypnagogic glitch?
We all know it's impossible to recall the exact point at which 'wakefulness' gives way to sleep, but I've noted that in my case, before succumbing to the nothingness before dreaming, I often have very 'trippy' and abstract thoughts about multi-dimensional forms, shapes that are sounds, colours that are multiplying numbers and vice-versa...and deep (but sometimes unrelated to my 'real life') emotions as I drift off. Nothing unusual about all that, I suspect.
What doesn't usually happen though (except on the odd occasions that are the subject of this thread) is that before everything goes a bit psychedelic, as described above, I find I can 'see' through my closed eyelids: that is, I can still see (only if I've conked out before turning out my bedside light) the room around me perfectly well, but as if viewed through a thin membrane. The nearest thing I can liken it to is closing one's eye's in blazing sunlight on a summer's day and still being able to see a vague impression of the sky and the orb of the sun - except that this is a detailed image of the room, not a blurry impressionistic scene; the titles of books on the shelf are perfectly legible, for example. My feeling at the time is that I'm 'seeing through my eyelids', that this is the 'real way to see', and that it's totally normal. If the lamp on the other side of the room has been left on it will appear to be on. And so on.
Presumably this is due to a recent visual memory that gets 'pasted in' as the conscious mind is still struggling for dominance. Whatever the explanation, it's strangely relaxing yet quite thrilling when it happens, and no doubt it is commonly experienced, (though I've never heard anyone else describe it). I can't remember with certainty if it's ever possible to move my eyes or head to take in more of the scene, but my murky old recollections suggest that I'm probably comfortably paralysed at the time.
Has anyone else enjoyed this interesting hypnagogic glitch?
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