A Bit Scared To Go To Sleep...

NSP

LE
So, last night for no apparent reason other than having been wound up a bit I necked 2x Cordon Negro and 1x 620ml Peroni over a couple of movies then knocked it on the head about 0100 and tucked myself in with the headphones feeding me some of The Cult's classics (you can't beat a bit of Astbury, after all). So you're all thinking, "Yeah and what of it, chimp?" And you'd be right - except that I woke up on the stroke of 0530 and thought, having picked up my phone and looked at it, "Hmmm - fuggit; another hour and a half before the alarm goes off," and went to roll over. At which point I realise I am actually semi-vertical sitting on the sofa and not horizontal all cozy-like in my pit, about the time I clock I looked at my phone, which gets left in the lounge. So at some point I've hauled my arse out of my scratcher, opened the door, moved through the hall, opened another door and negotiated fixtures, fittings and not-very-soft furnishings to end up sitting, spark out, on my sofa. All without noticing. This is a first for me. No - seriously; previously odd pissed stuff has had memories attached (usually bad ones) that come back as I'm tipping half a reservoir of water down my neck. Not his time... I'm scared...!

Now, what worries me is that I've just put the same mix of booze down my neck whilst spinning a couple of movies, I've got a bit more of The Cult on, and what if I turn left instead of right out of the bedroom? Assuming I operate the door handle successfully I'm then ultimately at the top of three flights of stairs and a door to the wider world beckons at the bottom.

"Why are you bothered?" you ask? Well, I sleep in the raw, I'm not in any way pretty and if I don't take my keys with me I can't get back in! Also, the potential to do a @The_Snail and substantially break myself exists and, apart from not needing the hassle that goes with bending my turbo-nutter heavily-calcified skeleton, I don't fancy being found in a crumpled heap in the altogether by my neighbours. Or anyone else, as it happens.

I like my booze, I like my movies and I like my Cult. So, what the fuck just happened, should I be worried and what the fuck else could possibly go wrong?

Over to the weapons-free denizens of the internet's foetid hair-clogged arsepart for answers...

The post that makes me laugh myself into a fatal seizure by midday tomorrow wins my not insubstantial estate*.

In your own time...









* Have I ever mentioned that I am, in fact, a lying cunt...?

Also, @ACAB has been in touch with me personally from beyond the grave. He said, "It's Friday; they need one of those threads. Don't let me down, son..."
 
I went through a phase of sleepwalking a few years ago. It was down to stress (you mention being wound up which is the same thing - 'stress' isn't a great term for it as it is a loaded word).
I haven't checked but the medical advice would be don't drink and then kip. This isn't an easy thing not to do for many. :)
When I was sleep walking I used to put things by doors, and the front door, that would make a noise if moved, or need some thought to move as they were in an unexpected place. The easiest thing is to lean a waste bin, or book, against your bedroom door and the thump when it falls as you open the door should wake you.
I first sleep-walked while camping on Scilly; I woke up when I walked into a wall after, without knowing how, getting out of a sleeping bag and a tent and wandering off. It was bloody scary to be honest.
Good luck with it.

Apologies for being non piss-taking...
 
I spent the better part of two years sleepwalking on the odd night whilst going through Phase 1 & 2 (18 months at Blandford is enough to drive anyone mad). I woke myself either in the middle of or having done the following:
  1. 1998, Bassingbourn barracks. Woke myself up mid-piss, whilst lagging over the landing bannister onto the floor one storey below. That can't have been much fun for the lads on block jobs the following morning.
  2. 1998, parent's house. Woke up in the corner of their back garden at around 0300hrs.
  3. 1999, in-laws home. Woke up having fell down a flight of spiral stairs, stark bollock naked. Of course the whole house woke up thinking a plane had crashed. To my eternal shame, I ended up doing this several times.....
  4. 2000, the depths of Dorset. Woke up to find myself wandering around the woods whilst on RADEX. Apparently I wasn't on shift at the time.
There are others but I'll have to pick my wife's brain.
 
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I once woke up standing to attention on the end of my bed - not the floor or mattress, but the tubular metal bit at the foot end. Apparently I was talking to someone called Brian...
 

Fife El Aye

Old-Salt
My brother once woke up to find me pissing in his wardrobe.
I had left my room, negotiated a flight of stairs, entered his room and clambered in there under the impression that I was peeing in the woods.
He has never really forgiven me for watering his best suit; but as I said at the time, he should be thankful that I wasn't also dreaming that I was a Bear.
 
It's when you repeatedly wake up and notice the clock is 3:33 and you've got muddy feet... and you're wearing someone else's clothing... and you have a vague memory of talking to a giant barn owl... that you really need to be concerned. Otherwise, drawing pins on the floor will do the trick... probably.
 
I once woke up standing to attention on the end of my bed - not the floor or mattress, but the tubular metal bit at the foot end. Apparently I was talking to someone called Brian...

Sorry - I was having a dump at the time. What did you want ?
 
Lock the door to the stairs and put the key in a bucket of cold water. That should save you a head first trip down the stairs.
As for the rest of it. Ziptie your self to tge bed frame.
 

NSP

LE
Lock the door to the stairs and put the key in a bucket of cold water. That should save you a head first trip down the stairs.
As for the rest of it. Ziptie your self to tge bed frame.
Only two small problems - it's a modern fire door and unlocks from the inside just by operating the door handle, and the bed's a divan and has no frame. Other than, that, though, cracking ideas, thanks!
 
So, last night for no apparent reason other than having been wound up a bit I necked 2x Cordon Negro and 1x 620ml Peroni over a couple of movies then knocked it on the head about 0100 and tucked myself in with the headphones feeding me some of The Cult's classics (you can't beat a bit of Astbury, after all). So you're all thinking, "Yeah and what of it, chimp?" And you'd be right - except that I woke up on the stroke of 0530 and thought, having picked up my phone and looked at it, "Hmmm - fuggit; another hour and a half before the alarm goes off," and went to roll over. At which point I realise I am actually semi-vertical sitting on the sofa and not horizontal all cozy-like in my pit, about the time I clock I looked at my phone, which gets left in the lounge. So at some point I've hauled my arse out of my scratcher, opened the door, moved through the hall, opened another door and negotiated fixtures, fittings and not-very-soft furnishings to end up sitting, spark out, on my sofa. All without noticing. This is a first for me. No - seriously; previously odd pissed stuff has had memories attached (usually bad ones) that come back as I'm tipping half a reservoir of water down my neck. Not his time... I'm scared...!

Now, what worries me is that I've just put the same mix of booze down my neck whilst spinning a couple of movies, I've got a bit more of The Cult on, and what if I turn left instead of right out of the bedroom? Assuming I operate the door handle successfully I'm then ultimately at the top of three flights of stairs and a door to the wider world beckons at the bottom.

"Why are you bothered?" you ask? Well, I sleep in the raw, I'm not in any way pretty and if I don't take my keys with me I can't get back in! Also, the potential to do a @The_Snail and substantially break myself exists and, apart from not needing the hassle that goes with bending my turbo-nutter heavily-calcified skeleton, I don't fancy being found in a crumpled heap in the altogether by my neighbours. Or anyone else, as it happens.

I like my booze, I like my movies and I like my Cult. So, what the fuck just happened, should I be worried and what the fuck else could possibly go wrong?

Over to the weapons-free denizens of the internet's foetid hair-clogged arsepart for answers...

The post that makes me laugh myself into a fatal seizure by midday tomorrow wins my not insubstantial estate*.

In your own time...









* Have I ever mentioned that I am, in fact, a lying cunt...?

Also, @ACAB has been in touch with me personally from beyond the grave. He said, "It's Friday; they need one of those threads. Don't let me down, son..."
For your bedroom door:
https://www.rideaway.co.uk/autolock-animal-proof-bolt
Autolock Animal Proof Bolt - Equestrain Stable Equipment | Ride-Away

And if you manage to open that, this for chaining yourself to the wall:

Screw On Tie Ring - Equestrain Stable Equipment | Ride-Away
 
So, last night for no apparent reason other than having been wound up a bit I necked 2x Cordon Negro and 1x 620ml Peroni over a couple of movies then knocked it on the head about 0100 and tucked myself in with the headphones feeding me some of The Cult's classics (you can't beat a bit of Astbury, after all). So you're all thinking, "Yeah and what of it, chimp?" And you'd be right - except that I woke up on the stroke of 0530 and thought, having picked up my phone and looked at it, "Hmmm - fuggit; another hour and a half before the alarm goes off," and went to roll over. At which point I realise I am actually semi-vertical sitting on the sofa and not horizontal all cozy-like in my pit, about the time I clock I looked at my phone, which gets left in the lounge. So at some point I've hauled my arse out of my scratcher, opened the door, moved through the hall, opened another door and negotiated fixtures, fittings and not-very-soft furnishings to end up sitting, spark out, on my sofa. All without noticing. This is a first for me. No - seriously; previously odd pissed stuff has had memories attached (usually bad ones) that come back as I'm tipping half a reservoir of water down my neck. Not his time... I'm scared...!

Now, what worries me is that I've just put the same mix of booze down my neck whilst spinning a couple of movies, I've got a bit more of The Cult on, and what if I turn left instead of right out of the bedroom? Assuming I operate the door handle successfully I'm then ultimately at the top of three flights of stairs and a door to the wider world beckons at the bottom.

"Why are you bothered?" you ask? Well, I sleep in the raw, I'm not in any way pretty and if I don't take my keys with me I can't get back in! Also, the potential to do a @The_Snail and substantially break myself exists and, apart from not needing the hassle that goes with bending my turbo-nutter heavily-calcified skeleton, I don't fancy being found in a crumpled heap in the altogether by my neighbours. Or anyone else, as it happens.

I like my booze, I like my movies and I like my Cult. So, what the fuck just happened, should I be worried and what the fuck else could possibly go wrong?

Over to the weapons-free denizens of the internet's foetid hair-clogged arsepart for answers...

The post that makes me laugh myself into a fatal seizure by midday tomorrow wins my not insubstantial estate*.

In your own time...









* Have I ever mentioned that I am, in fact, a lying cunt...?

Also, @ACAB has been in touch with me personally from beyond the grave. He said, "It's Friday; they need one of those threads. Don't let me down, son..."

It could be night terrors from all those operational tours.
 
My brother once woke up to find me pissing in his wardrobe.

Everyone has done that, (not necessarily in your brother's wardrobe, you understand. That would have completely creeped him out by now). It's a rite of passage for all young men.

Your subconscious self tells you that you are in bed and you must not swamp it. You go into autopilot and head for a toilet. Again, your subconscious tells you that you need to pass through at least one door to achieve this. If this happens to be a wardrobe door, then so be it, the requirements have been met and honour satisfied.
 
IMG_5158.PNG


All sorted for just under a tenner.
 
I once woke up at 5am wondering why there were seagulls flying across he bedroom ceiling. Imagine my surprise when I found that I was asleep in a graveyard lying atop one of those stone tombs. Some alcohol may have been imbibed in the previous 12 hours.
 
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