Imagine being stuck in a dark, confined space, where you can’t move or speak. It sounds pretty hellish, and yet it has happened to me countless times.
Sleep paralysis is estimated to affect around data-analytics-id=”inline-link” href=”https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK562322/” target=”_blank” data-url=”https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK562322/” referrerpolicy=”no-referrer-when-downgrade” data-hl-processed=”none”>8% of the population, and while I didn’t realise it for a long time, that figure includes me.
id=”elk-seasonal” href=”” data-url=”” target=”_blank” referrerpolicy=”no-referrer-when-downgrade” data-hl-processed=”none”/>side data-block-type=”embed” data-render-type=”fte” data-skip=”dealsy” data-widget-type=”seasonal” class=”hawk-base”/>
One of the most frustrating aspects of having experienced sleep paralysis since I was a tween, is that it persists even though my sleep has data-analytics-id=”inline-link” href=”https://www.tomsguide.com/wellness/sleep/quitting-drinking-leads-to-better-sleep” data-before-rewrite-localise=”https://www.tomsguide.com/wellness/sleep/quitting-drinking-leads-to-better-sleep”>vastly improved since i quit alcohol in 2021.
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It’s…
