I woke up startled with a torturous scream of pain ringing in my ears.

My eyes shot open and as I tried to sit up. I was frozen. His hands around my neck squeezed with just enough pressure that I could barely breathe. His body was heavy on mine. I could tell he was tall because his chin touched my forehead and I couldn't feel his feet, just his ankles or shins. It felt like he was smelling me and pressing his face, rubbing it against mine. It was like an animalistic motion.

I was able to reach for his arms, as I attempted to pry them away from my neck to no avail. Losing oxygen fast, I began feeling light-headed. The feeling to pass out was overwhelming. I started praying in my mind. I prayed to breathe, prayed to move, prayed for it to go away. I prayed for him to go away. He wouldn't budge.

I finally stopped fighting. The blur that obscured my vision slowly decreased as I was released. Coughing and gasping for air, I forced myself to get up. You would think that after all these years of dealing with this bullshit, I would be used to it. I wasn't and I never would be. I was nearly numb if nothing else.

"Fuck! This is going to leave a mark." I said, feeling frustrated and pissed off. Today is a turtleneck top kind of day for sure. Most people had to cover up hickeys at school. I had to cover up strangulation marks. What a wonderful life this is.

Cataplexy is what the doctors diagnosed me with. Since the age of 13 I had been experiencing hallucinations and attacks, mostly at night. The ones that happened in my bed were not visible, but I always ended up with lingering, painful marks on my body that I couldn't explain. I completed two sleep studies and nothing showed up. There were no answers until study number three.

In the middle of the night, a different technician from the first tech I originally checked in with came to my room to do my routine checks while I was hooked up to the sleep study device. The doctor didn't mention a new technician or nurse that would be checking on me, but I didn't ask either.

The tech said she was from Mexico. She was very petite and pretty with light brown hair and hazel eyes. There was a peaceful vibe surrounding her. She asked me what was going on with me since the charts were pretty vague. I told her my story in a nutshell. Who has time for a five-year horror story?

The tech looked at me and told me that no doctor on this planet can tell me why these things were happening to me. She said that medical science was not the answer and what I was experiencing was not something that is of the world that I thought I knew.

She told me I had a light in me and that I had "gifts". She said that "they" were coming for me, and I had to prepare. She never said who "they" were but just that they wanted me for evil things. I brushed it off as some crazy lady who got a temporary job that she probably wouldn't keep very long.

When I was leaving, I asked everyone about her, but no one knew who she was. Maybe she was just another hallucination, I thought. It wouldn't be my first experience with hallucinations. So, my doctor diagnosed me with cataplexy. He told me I could take medicine to help me sleep and manage my symptoms. I hated taking medicine, so I decided I needed to take a break from everything.

After a while I simply stopped telling anyone about the incidents. People thought I was weird, so I kept it to myself. I couldn't take that look that I used to get after explaining one of my episodes to the people I loved. I could tell they thought I was losing my mind. So, I just hid my marks and kept it all to myself.

I couldn't go back to sleep after my episode. I felt like I was just in the fight of my life. I was in pain and annoyed. I got up and drank a glass of water, shook it off and grabbed my journal to begin recording in detailed writing what had just happened. I had about five journals full so far. It was crazy... I know.

I also had a dream journal. I always felt that dreams were either messages from the spirit realm or thoughts that were stored at the end of each day. They just needed to be deciphered to know which one it was. I imagined that one day this would all make sense.

Up and ready to get out the house, I drove to the track where I used to practice with the track team. They always tried to get me to join the team since I was fast and I had a lot of stamina, but I have never been much of a joiner. I just loved to run. It was a release. Running was a freedom. It was also a very necessary distraction for what I had been going through.

I arrived at the track at 5:30 a.m., my favorite time to work out. No one was ever out and about at that time for some reason. The sun was starting to rise with beautiful pinks, blues and purples. I was in love with everything about nature. The beauty, the anger, the healing of it all. It was my peace.

I did a couple of stretches and started my warmup lap. Usually two miles sufficed, followed by a relaxing yoga session. I had to clear my mind after this morning's attack though. I was still sore, and the bruises had already started to become visible.

I began running faster than usual. I pushed myself a little harder today. I did an extra mile much faster than I normal ran and realized near the end of my final lap there were tears forming.

Get it together Sukie. Nothing is allowed to break you. You will figure this out.