1. The dreams that are confused with real memories are different from other everyday dreams. Such as the dreams in question could possibly be more graphic, evocative and realistic in nature. 

2. Another possibility is the presence of unusual memory encoding during sleep. This basically means that there is something odd about the way in which dreams are processed and converted during sleep before it is stored in long-term memory. 

One's understanding of reality depends a lot on their past memories. However, it has been established through studies and by researchers that memories can be rather fragile and susceptible to suggestion. During each Rapid Eye Movement (REM) cycle, one's state of consciousness is altered. This is the period during which these suggestions come about to be. REM is defined as the deepest state of one's sleep and also the time frame during which one dreams the most. There are experimental models and studies of psychosis that have concurred how cognitive disconnect and lack of awareness during the REM phase may cause one's dreams to be confused for real memories. 

In order to understand this relationship, a study was conducted and hypothesised by NIH regarding sleep's role in memory. This study concluded that: "the process of encoding episodic memories in one's sleep is similar to the mechanisms of the conscious mind. The malleability of the conscious mind may lead to a dissonance between reality and what one dreams".   

SLEEP PARALYSIS: 

Sleep paralysis is a condition that occurs just after falling asleep or waking up. It is primarily identified by a brief loss of muscle control, also known as Atonia. Another identification factor of a sleep paralysis episode is the presence of hallucinations.

 

Sleep paralysis is considered to be a type of parasomnia. Parasomnias are disruptive and abnormal sleep-related disorders and behaviours. Sleep paralysis normally occurs in the REM stage of sleep. REM sleep is the deepest stage of sleep as well as the period during which one dreams the most. 

The REM stage involves both vivid dreaming as well as atonia, which prevents one from physically acting out their dreams. Under normal circumstances, this atonia ends upon the person waking up, so basically they are never made aware of this inability to move. 

Hence, it is believed by researchers that sleep paralysis involves a mixed state of consciousness, within which both wakefulness and REM sleep seem to overlap with one another. Due to this overlap, the atonia and mental imagery of REM sleep persist once the person is awake and aware. During an episode of sleep paralysis, one can open their eyes and look around while being aware of their environment and surroundings and at the same time, experience REM sleep-related atonia. Often this is accompanied by the realistic and powerful imagery (that one dreams up in REM sleep) spilling into the real world, into one’s actual surroundings.  

When undergoing an episode of sleep paralysis, the emotional experience often comprises of feelings of terror, fear and panic. Oftentimes, people experience hallucinations of a threatening presence and other uncontrollable visions which when combined with being in a paralysed state lead to an intense, extremely uneasy and predominantly negative experience. Majority of sleep paralysis episodes are often associated with experiencing strong feelings of something real that are characterized by fear and anxiety which can then bleed into wakefulness. This in turn creates a pattern where people may start forming negative associations with sleep which could later prevent them from wanting to go to bed at all and in some cases, could even lead to bouts of post-traumatic stress disorder. However, there are some cases of sleep paralysis that have also shown to have positive associations. These could include out-of-body experiences or even sensations of floating or flying. 

I could feel everything around me as I lay in the comforts of my bed: the softness of my small Eeyore plush toy that lay in the crook of my neck, the scent of lavender from my diffuser wafting through the room, the soft glimmer of moonlight peeking out from between my curtains. I readjust and swaddle myself with my blanket, preparing to succumb to slumber.

My once drooping eyelids shoot open in alarm. I instantly felt as though someone or something was coming to get me. 

My body is filled with dread and anxiety.

I reach out to the light switch beside me.

Click

Click click

Click click click click

I began to hit the switch furiously in hopes that it would turn on.

I hurriedly pulled my blanket over my head, ensuring the entirety of my body was ‘out of reach’ - something I learned about keeping myself safe from ankle-grabbing monsters that reside under my bed.

My heart races as I feel it approach me. I hold my breath. It's right next to me.

Startled, my body jolts awake.

I could feel everything around me as I lay in the comforts of my bed: the softness of my small Eeyore plush toy that lay in the crook of my neck, the scent of lavender from my diffuser wafting through the room, the soft glimmer of moonlight peeking out from between my curtains. I readjust myself and peel my blanket off my now-sticky self, preparing to succumb to slumber. 

My breath is still heavy. Sweat drips off my body, dampening the bedsheets below me.

My eyes shoot open in terror. Someone or something was coming to get me.

Fear gripped my mind as I turned towards the light switch next to me.

Click.

Click. click.

Click. click. click. click.

Click. click. click. click. click.

I feel its presence coming closer to me. I turn over so my back faces my door. 

I didn’t want to see what it was or how it looked.

My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I curl up in a tight ball.

My mind wrestled with itself to escape back into reality.

I feel so scared. So helpless. I just want my mom.

I feel it approaching me. 

I think it’s inside my room now.

I hold my breath.

I sprung awake, gasping for air. 

I’m back here. I could feel everything around me as I lay in the comforts of my bed: the softness of my small Eeyore plush toy that lay in the crook of my neck, the scent of lavender from my diffuser wafting through the room, the soft glimmer of moonlight peeking out from between my curtains. 

I lay perched on my arms behind me as I support myself up, looking towards my door with apprehension.

I reach out to the light switch beside me, hesitating as my hand draws closer to it.

Click.

The soft yellow light above me flickers on. I collapse back onto my bed, knowing that it is finally over.

Last year, I got to see my family again after being apart for 2 years. The feeling was indescribable. Every new day was more eventful than the last. One of those days, we decided to go for a movie; my father, brother and myself. I remember how excited we were, after all it was the new Spiderman movie. After the movie, we decided we would get dinner at one of my favourite restaurants. Only the best food to end the perfect day. The drive back home was pretty normal. It was later on in the night so the road was empty and no cars in sight. Just the three of us, playing music and just talking. Somehow, the talk felt endless. A one hour drive felt like it had turned into five hours. Suddenly, just like that everyone’s voices started to muddle and the view from the window began blurring. Like someone was closing a door very slowly, it kept creaking and whoosh. 

Just like that, I began to open my eyes and my mother opened the shutters in my bedroom. How did she get here? How did I get here? I was just in the car. 

“What happened maa? When did we get home?” I asked as my mind paced. Giving me a weird look, she replied “you got home really late last night and were so sleepy, you just went to bed straight”. 

Somehow, it felt like the time I had spent getting out of the car and into bed had just been erased. Like it was non-existent and had never happened. 

“Good morning dear, lots of love. How did you sleep? What time you are going to campus for class?”

As I read her message I recall, but it’s a Sunday. But I won’t tell her that, she’ll just feel conscious. So I reply “Good morning dadi, lots of love. Will be home today, no class. I will call you in a bit.”

Just like that, cracks begin to form and slowly but abruptly those cracks turn to chasms. 

She’ll sit there wondering what day or month it is, she tries but can’t seem to recall. So she gets up to go check the calendar hung on the kitchen door; it’s April and it’s a Sunday. “Good” she wonders to herself, “everyone will be home today, no school, no office”. As she sits, watching a video on her tab, she realises that she can’t properly hear what’s going on in the video. “Strange, the volume is on full”. She touches her ear, and realises she doesn’t have her hearing aids on. “But where could I have left them? I can’t remember”. The rest of the family enter the living room and wish her good morning and sit down together for morning tea. Everyone talks about their week and catches up on global news but they have to speak very loudly or she won’t understand. They don’t want to bother her by bringing up the hearing aids. “Why make her feel forgetful?”. 

Simple forgetfulness starts to turn to a feeling of agitation. She can’t remember why she came to the kitchen in the first place so she begins to lose patience with the helper. She’ll raise her voice, but she doesn’t even realise she’s raising her voice. How could she? She forgot about her hearing aids. But the helper knows she means well. Dadi always comes around to apologise to the helper, remind her how grateful she is for all that she does. 

When telling stories from her past, she forgets details here and there, as though they aren’t her lived memories in the first place. But I know they’re her lived experiences, I just tell myself “it’s probably nothing, happens with old age”. I deny that it is anything more than just a symptom of aging. The rest of the family consoles her, tries to convince her there’s nothing wrong with her. 

“But how could we possibly know how it feels to begin losing oneself? Begin losing bits and pieces of our memories and experiences, the very foundation of who we are as people”. 

David opened his eyes, stretched his arms and sat up on his bed. 

“Good morning dear.” he mumbled as he glanced over at a photo of his late wife.

Getting on to his feet, he walked towards the kitchen. “Let’s make us some breakfast.” 

Passing the kitchen counter, he noticed a metal device sitting on it. He wasn’t sure what it was but shrugged it off and proceeded to spread jam on his bread and make himself a cup of coffee.

As usual, he would have his breakfast at the porch. There he would sit, reflect about life’s events and talk to himself. His eyes caught on to that conspicuous metal object again.

“It looks like a futuristic device. What does it do?” David thought to himself.

“Was it the helper who had left it there?”

“Also, the bread seem a little soggier than usual today. How was it always fragrant and crispy”

This had been how David starts his days even before his retirement. He just got really used to this routine. However, instead of going to work after breakfast, he would have a new set of activities to keep him busy and entertained throughout the day.

Wednesdays like this are for tending his garden till noon followed by afternoon gathering with his buddies at the cafe. The day would end with a simple dinner at a diner down the street followed with a good book right before bed.

Welcome to another day in the life of a boomer/retiree.

Beep beep, the alarm went off at 6.30am.

David opened his eyes, stretched his body and sat up on his bed. 

“Hello my dear.” he mumbled as he glanced over at the photo of Lucy.

Getting on to his feet, he proceeded to the kitchen, passed the counter, and there was the metal device again shaped like a luggage but the size of a mailbox.

Determined to figure what the object was, he touched the metallic casing, and held it up carefully observing every side of it. The object sits on four rubber stoppers fixed to its bottom. There are two rectangular openings on the top. He thought they look more like slots for either VHS or cassette tapes but none of them would fit. Looking into the slots he noticed metal gauze panels in each of them. While he was catching on to the possibility of it being a media playing device, he also noticed buttons and a rotary knob at one side. On the opposite side was a slot-like handle system which added to the mystery. It became really confusing when he saw traces of breadcrumbs carelessly sprinkled around and on top of this thing. David then noticed a wire that connects the metal box to the powerpoint. “So this must be some sort of a household device.” he thought. “What would a boomer know right? I’m too old for new tech.”

It’s been about four minutes. The retiree still had no clue as to what the item was and what was it doing on the kitchen counter.

Seeing that he probably had never used this device before nor will he do so in the future, he unplugged it and place it in the basement as it was taking up space on the counter.

He planned to ask the helper later that day what it might be but never got to do it because he forgot about the whole thing.

And there the unidentified technology sat in the basement, out of sight, out of mind.

Knowing that, an abuser can fk a person up by a simple act of calling a memory into question.

As harmless as it sounds, this is a form of manipulative behaviour known as Gaslighting. The manipulator would attempt to mislead someone else (or a group of people) by questioning their versions of memory and judgment. In doing so, overwrite their own versions of memory as if it really happened.

This behaviour is tricky to recognise because of its covert nature. It can come in an inconspicuous gesture of wanting to help get a version of the memory right, like a friendly reminder or a gentle suggestion. For example “that wasn’t how it happen right?” or “you must be really tired that day, I remembered it differently.”

In some cases, it can also come in the form of a violent protest — “How could you accuse me of this?” “Wasn’t you the one who did it?” or “there you go again.”

What’s fascinating is when we look into the phenomenon of why Gaslighting works and how it takes effect on the abused.

The abuser has a 

Over time, gaslighting can:

"It's probably nothing, maybe just the effect of all the scary movies I watched as a child."

So I went forth and put the lamp on a dim setting and placed pillows on both sides of the bed. The pillows will protect me. And then as I lay down embracing the blanket, before I knew it, I was asleep. I remember dreaming when I heard this loud stomping noise. Like someone in heels was walking on a wooden deck. Somehow the sound kept getting louder as though it was approaching. I remember opening my eyes quick, but then I couldn't move. The sound kept getting louder and all I wanted to do was bury my head in the pillow so I wouldn't hear it. But I just couldn't move. The stomping got even louder now. The person was in the room with me. I felt eyes on me, like someone was watching and this time they were walking right by the bed, next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a shadowy figure. 

"Damn, I should've set the lamp on a brighter setting."

"Move. Move. Just try and move something, even your fingers. Or just yell. Maybe aunty or uncle will hear you and come rushing."

But nothing worked. So I just closed my eyes again and repeated a prayer in my head. I kept repeating it till the words began to lose all meaning. And before I knew it, the next time I opened my eyes, the sun was peeking through the window and I stretched. Never have I been so grateful for the ability to move. To just wriggle my toes. I asked everyone in the morning if someone had come home late in heels. 

"I swear it was real. I heard it. I felt it."

But turns out they had been home all night, sound asleep in their rooms.