I’m not gonna make this too long because I seriously need advice, fast.
For context: I’ve had pretty bad insomnia on and off since high school (I’m in my late 20s now). I’ve tried everything from melatonin to prescription sleeping pills and, at best, they made me drowsy. The only thing that helps me drift off is leaving the TV on all night.
Before anyone says I’m just making my insomnia worse, I’m aware that this is not a good long-term solution; something about the bluish light of the screen screwing with your circadian rhythm. But it really has been the only thing that can knock me out.
I normally keep the volume low because late-night commercials are fucking loud and the whole point is to fall asleep. Last night I guess I fell out pretty early (before 10, I think) so the volume was still audible. Then I heard my name.
This startled me awake for two reasons: one, I live alone; and, two, once my brain quit being fuzzy I realized there was a news report on the television. About me.
If you’ve ever seen yourself on TV then you know it’s kind of exhilarating and surreal; one of the few instances in life when you’re in this weirdly objective position of watching yourself being yourself. There’s probably a word for that feeling. I’m too rattled to look it up right now.
I don’t watch the news much because I’m already depressed, thanks, but I know my local station’s call sign. This was not that. And it wasn’t the call sign of any other station I could find, either.
From the outset things seemed ordinary: there was the set, the desk, the fancy backdrop, the anchor… and a picture of me, with my date of birth and date of death beneath it. The death date was set a week into the future, meaning I’m supposed to die next Friday.
I can’t describe to you guys the awful, sick feeling I got in my stomach, like I was on a roller coaster (which I hate anyway) and the car just kept going up and up towards the first drop without ever reaching it. There’s nowhere to go and no one around to stop the ride and ask if you’re okay. You’re just trapped and terrified with that sick feeling churning inside you.
I didn’t think it could get any worse - until the anchor started talking.
“[My Name] will be found deceased next Friday evening at approximately 5:45pm. Cause of death–” That’s all I remember, or all I care to remember, before my cold-sweat, panic-attack-imminent ass jumped the fuck out of bed and turned the TV off.
I’m at a loss, guys. My brain has been spinning trying to come up with an explanation while simultaneously not wanting to think about it for too long or I’ll have another panic attack.
Is someone going to hurt me, and is it someone I know or a random intruder? Am I going to die in an accident? (I had a girls’ night scheduled next Friday at 7 that I had to cancel because I’m too scared to leave my apartment or see anyone… and now I’m worried I’ll die at home. Jesus Christ.)
I wish I could lie to myself and write this off as a bad dream, but it’s affected my waking hours so drastically that I know I won’t get any sleep for the next week. I’ll be damned if I leave my TV on ever again.
Any advice? I need all the help I can get before Friday.
Thanks.