If there’s something weird out there that will make a person think that’s a thing?, somebody in my family will have or have had it. That’s just how we roll. Lately, I’ve seen a resurgence in my least favorite quirk: a fear of lying down.
That’s a thing? I know, right? It feels a little like an attack of claustrophobia, with the tight chest and inability to breathe. As soon as I sit up, I’m fine. Until I lay down again. It’s a vicious circle. Sometimes moving to the couch, with my head up on the arm is enough. Sometimes I have to sleep sitting up straight. Air helps. The ceiling fan on low, just moving the air around, will help, but my husband has this thing about ceiling fans in the winter and wanting to be warm. In the camper, if I crack the window just enough so I can feel the cool air and hear the night sounds, I can usually sleep.
I know it happened for the first time in 2000 because I was pregnant with the Short Kid. Assuming it might be connected to the baby pushing against something, I asked my nurse-midwife about it. She pretty much called me a crazy person and I felt stupid and shamed, so I just live with it now.
Unfortunately, if I get out of bed, Taz gets all ZOMG, it’s time to get up and play now!, so I spent a good chunk of last night trying to sleep sitting up in bed, leaned against the wall. It tends to come and go, so I’m really hoping it’s time for it to go now. Because a fear of lying down? Really?
In the meantime, I’ll be wandering around the internet, groggy and stiff-necked, like a coffee-zombie shuffling along the caffeine trail.