The average sleep study costs around $2500. I've never seen that much money in one place before, and I certainly don't have that kind of credit, so this won't be an option for me until (if ever) I'm more firmly in the middle class. I've been told by multiple people that I talk in my sleep. I've been told by multiple websites (and probably doctors, if I could afford to visit them) that there is no treatment for it. It's something I would like to end or at least diminish, as it can't be pleasant for anyone sharing a bed with me. Taking melatonin helps sometimes. But all this time I'm left wondering, what the hell am I talking about in my sleep?
I needed hard evidence, something more substantial than Evan's reports (and impressions) of "satanic rituals." I read
Sleep Talkin' Man* and find their use of a voice-activated digital recorder smart, so I started shopping around. Because of my budget, I had to settle for a cheap one that I could not connect to my computer, though I will eventually find a way to transfer these sounds. Last night was the inaugural recording of my sleep musings. I hoped to capture everything and see if I could sync it up with my dreams, which I almost always remember.
I was almost too excited to sleep, but after reading some of Mike Doughty's
The Book Of Drugs, I got there. I turned the recorder on and set it to voice-activated. I woke up around 4AM saying something, then checked the recorder. Almost 40 seconds of sound. I hit record again and went back to sleep. My proper wake-up time rolled around and I was giddy with groggy excitement to hear what I said. The post-4AM recording was nothing. Just white noise. The VOX feature likely picking up some especially noisy tosses and turns. The first session was pay dirt. Well, it was more than I had hoped for. Amid a cough and some indistinguishable moans (my mom does this in her sleep as well), are some snippets of real speech, crazy as they may be.
The first, a very faint "nanananana," which, thank to the quick cut-off of the voice-activated feature, quickly becomes a wail/moan. What does this mean? I'd like to think that it's a Guns N' Roses reference. Between 97.1FM and 105.9FM, I hear "Welcome to the Jungle" at least once a day in my car. Each time, I practice the "sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na knees knees" part. It's this or the more boring explanation of me saying "no" over and over, which I think I did in my dream. Boooooring.
The second is a clear, "SCRAP." When I was drifting off while reading the book, Doughty was talking about his current bandmate, whose nickname is Scrap. That one's easy.
The final recording is a full, mumbly thought, "Not there yet. You go right ahead, sweetie." I remember saying part of this, and I believe the first portion was directed at the digital recorder after I checked the time. 4AM, not there yet! Not time to wake up yet. Still more opportunity to keep talking in my sleep. The second half I don't remember. Maybe I just really like my new recorder.
* - Many of my friends are skeptical that these people are legit. Regardless, I hope the crap I say is eventually amusing.
