You might remember me talking about other phobias I have concerning chainsaws and lava (or magma). As I was trying to get to sleep I realized the only position in which I was comfortable that night was on my back, and that’s a problem. I never intentionally sleep on my back because I start thinking I might open my eyes and I’ll be in a coffin.
I start thinking about death, and then I can’t sleep.
First, a little back story.
When I was little I had two theories about why people have déjà vu.
The first was that there are actually two Earths and we are connected somehow so you remember little bits from the other Earth that is further along in time. When I got a little older, like 10 maybe, this theory developed into me thinking maybe a very advanced race of human aliens as an experiment put their little seeds of life on Earth and were watching us develop to see if we turned out exactly the same. The reason we have déjà vu in this scenario is because everything did happen exactly the same, so we have bits of memory from our distant alien cousins reappear in our minds, which are actually their minds, just in the past and in a new form. Get it?
When I was 7 I came up with my other theory explaining déjà vu. I thought when you died and were spread out in a coffin that although you couldn’t move you were laying there reliving the memories of your life over and over again but not realizing you were dead. The déjà vu occurs because obviously you have already lived the memory the first time, but you aren’t conscious of the fact that you are dead and in re-live mode.
Clearly I didn’t know about cremation when I came up with this theory.
It’s because of this theory, although I know it’s not true, that an image from the darkest part of my brain resurfaces. It’s the image I had when I was only 7 of seeing my dead papaw in a coffin and thinking that he knew what was happening but was unable to move because he was technically dead, and then I was imagining the day I’d be in the coffin also knowing but not moving.
Even in my sleep if I roll on my back, my phobia is so ingrained in my head that my arms always go above my head because when have you ever seen a person in a coffin laying like this:
I’ve woken up so many times on my back with my arms above my head, but never once with them by my side or on my chest.