That weird sensation that only lasts a few minutes

crimsontinker7 said:Maybe you all took too much LSD...

...and all that, though I seriously doubt I took any during junior year (I couldn't find a dealer).☕

"Nightmares"—look, most of what you guys are describing happens when the brain and the body just don't wake up in sync. Basically, the brain kicks into gear before the rest of the body does, and then it starts frantically trying to make sense of the chaos...

Lisa Barnes3 said:seriously, why does everyone have "Bab" in their name?🤷

🤣

Who knows? Maybe it's just some old-school thing...
Actually, Bab means father, not mother. It's an Indian suffix used for saints and avatars. For example, Meher Baba translates to merciful father.

Amanda Roberts21 said:I read him a long time ago, but what you're saying really reminds me of his journeys into other realities.

Beyond that, it brings to mind those hypnagogic states—you know, when you're drifting off to sleep or waking up from a nonsensical dream where you're lucid, and suddenly thoughts, visions, and sensations become weirdly, even bizarrely, intertwined.

Plus, I'm honestly not even sure what "reality" is anymore. Are we just conditioned to see things the way we do because society and our upbringing—with their careful selection of impressions—have dictated what we should look at, how we should look at it, and how we should experience everything?

I was reading recently about how at birth, a child has the highest number of neural connections in their entire life. As we grow through conditioning and upbringing, most of those connections snap, leaving only the ones that get heavily reinforced through repetition and training. Think about that—it means we start with infinite potential, only to spend our whole lives narrowing it down. We aren't just limiting our opportunities; we're shrinking our very perception of reality. In a sense, we're just regressing as we age.

Be careful with the castaneda stuff. Take small doses, go slow... don't end up blowing a fuse or something. 😉

Read the Power story and Journey to Ixtlan this summer. Don Juan and Don Genaro are pretty interesting characters. I dig how much their philosophy ties back to nature.

I had something similar happen back when I was a kid and running a high fever. Those shapes... like cubes that were bigger than your entire field of vision, almost like you could reach out and touch them. A strange sensation, but I wouldn't call it unpleasant. Your friend’s description really hit home—that feeling of traveling through a tube that's just packed tight. It isn't literal, but man, what a great way to put it.

I honestly had no clue other people experienced this too. 🙂

🧐
I recall similar hallucinatory experiences from when I was sick with high fevers. Mostly back during childhood.
Not much else to add here, just dropping this quote to meet the quota, haha. Hope nobody takes offense. These phenomena fall under hallucinations and paresthesia, right?

"Hallucinations are very common in those suffering from schizophrenia. Hallucinations are sensory deceptions where there is no actual stimulus, yet the person hallucinating perceives something non-existent as real. Auditory hallucinations—specifically voices—are most typical for schizophrenia. These are voices heard only by the patient. Usually, these voices converse with one another, comment on the patient's behavior, offer advice, or criticize them. Voices can also issue commands, which we call imperative hallucinations."
Visual hallucinations are rarer, meaning they see things that aren't there, like strange lights, monsters, or demons. They can also have somatic hallucinations, involving bodily sensations not caused by real stimuli. For example, they might feel as though their internal organs are decaying or moving through their body, or like an electric current is running through their legs—often linked to other delusional ideas, such as being destroyed by invisible forces.
Paresthesia😢(cramp, money, perception) a medical term for an unusual, distorted sensation caused by abnormal internal stimuli.

Well, figured I’d chime in too. 😁

I've had some pretty similar experiences myself. For me, it was all about the voices. They’d start out as this low, quiet murmur, and then just keep ramping up the volume until they were practically screaming at me. The thing is, they aren't actually saying anything intelligible—they don't communicate anything specific. After a few minutes of that relentless shouting, I’d get this sensation like the walls around me had turned into soft dough, like I could just push right through them. But at the exact same time, I had this feeling they were sharp on the inside, almost like glass. Soft, yet razor-sharp. 😕
Anyway, I won't ramble on forever...
I actually went and consulted a psychiatrist to figure out what the hell was going on. And I got an answer. Apparently, it's just hallucinations triggered by brain development. As the brain matures and expands, it essentially "tests out" certain neural centers, particularly the sensory ones. That’s why most of this stuff happens during childhood, and eventually, the hallucinations just taper off.

crimsonwalker80 said:I am going to attempt to articulate this with as much precision as possible, though, quite frankly, even I struggle to pin down a definition for this sensation.

I’m twenty-two years old, and looking back, I can recall these episodes occurring since I was just a child. It always follows the exact same trajectory; I recognize the onset instantly, knowing full well that I am about to embark on this experience again within the next few minutes. It typically strikes when I am exhausted—perhaps during a mid-afternoon nap or just as I’m drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, my perception of the objects surrounding me undergoes a radical shift. Objects seem to gain this immense mass, yet simultaneously, I harbor this bizarre impression that they have shrunk in scale and are hovering right within arm's reach; for instance, if I’m lying in bed, I get this overwhelming sense that I could simply reach out and grab the doorknob across the room.

Inside my mind, things become even more surreal. These aren't hallucinations in the traditional sense, but rather an intense internal sensation—a constant, paradoxical tug-of-war between thoughts of something being gargantuan and something being microscopic. There is this quiet voice that manages to be piercingly loud at the same time, almost as if it’s shouting at me, all underscored by a mounting sense of dread. Then, I experience this sensation of hurtling through something perfectly smooth and level, only to plunge headlong into a chaotic nightmare of jagged edges and sharp protrusions, moving through it all at breakneck speed. None of this manifests physically; it is purely a phenomenon existing within my consciousness. The moment I attempt to focus on one specific sensation, it slips from my grasp, only to reappear in some other part of my periphery that I wasn't attending to. I am perpetually submerged in this medium, unable to truly grasp its nature. It feels as though I am constantly on the precipice of understanding exactly what is happening, but the truth always eludes me by a hair's breadth.

The entire episode lasts about five minutes before vanishing entirely without any lingering physical aftereffects. What infuriates me most is this absolute inability to comprehend the mechanics of it. Once the event concludes, the memory begins to fade immediately, making it incredibly difficult to describe the sheer intensity of those few minutes. It is as if my brain switched into an entirely different operating mode. This doesn't happen often—maybe just a couple of times a year.

In the past, I kept this to myself because the sheer strangeness of it was frightening, but I was stunned last year when, during a conversation with my college roommate, I realized he experiences the exact same thing. He tried to explain his version, but he too found himself stumbling for the right words. However, we are both certain that we are navigating the same type of "disorder"—this strange duality of something being tiny, quiet, and yet massive and deafening, combined with that feeling of passing through a specific medium. He described it somewhat like traveling through a tube that isn't hollow, but is instead completely solid.

I would be immensely grateful if anyone else who experiences such phenomena would share their accounts. Does anyone know what this might be? Is it a recognized condition? Is there any literature or research on this topic? Most importantly, is this something serious, and should I be seeking out a psychiatrist to discuss it?

This reminded me of a specific video—
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyyjU8fzEYU
The video is 20 minutes long, so I’m posting it here primarily to warn those of you watching on a monthly data cap. 🙂

A woman (a brain doctor, no less!!) suffered a stroke. Her description of the experience was fascinating. During the stroke, her left hemisphere essentially shut down, and she experienced what she calls "nirvana." The human brain is split, after all—the right and left hemispheres.
The right side acts like a parallel processor; it's what anchors us to the present moment. In that state, you are pure energy interfacing with the energy around you. There are no dimensions, no measurements, no concept of time—just a beautiful collage of the present and an intertwining of energies.

The left side, however, functions like a serial processor. It manages history and the future; it analyzes that collage of the moment by taking details, categorizing them, and linking them to past knowledge or future plans. It’s the voice that says, "I am," effectively separating us from the surrounding energy. It’s also the voice that tells you, "I need to hit the restroom immediately or things are going to get messy."😁 Essentially: facts, logic, math, and minutiae.

Now, I might be wrong 😁 but it seems to me that when you're truly exhausted, you simply—switch off the left hemisphere. It's only logical.

crimsonwalker80 said:I am going to attempt to articulate this with as much precision as possible, though, quite frankly, even I struggle to pin down a definition for this sensation.

I’m twenty-two years old, and looking back, I can recall these episodes occurring since I was just a child. It always follows the exact same trajectory; I recognize the onset instantly, knowing full well that I am about to embark on this experience again within the next few minutes. It typically strikes when I am exhausted—perhaps during a mid-afternoon nap or just as I’m drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, my perception of the objects surrounding me undergoes a radical shift. Objects seem to gain this immense mass, yet simultaneously, I harbor this bizarre impression that they have shrunk in scale and are hovering right within arm's reach; for instance, if I’m lying in bed, I get this overwhelming sense that I could simply reach out and grab the doorknob across the room.

Inside my mind, things become even more surreal. These aren't hallucinations in the traditional sense, but rather an intense internal sensation—a constant, paradoxical tug-of-war between thoughts of something being gargantuan and something being microscopic. There is this quiet voice that manages to be piercingly loud at the same time, almost as if it’s shouting at me, all underscored by a mounting sense of dread. Then, I experience this sensation of hurtling through something perfectly smooth and level, only to plunge headlong into a chaotic nightmare of jagged edges and sharp protrusions, moving through it all at breakneck speed. None of this manifests physically; it is purely a phenomenon existing within my consciousness. The moment I attempt to focus on one specific sensation, it slips from my grasp, only to reappear in some other part of my periphery that I wasn't attending to. I am perpetually submerged in this medium, unable to truly grasp its nature. It feels as though I am constantly on the precipice of understanding exactly what is happening, but the truth always eludes me by a hair's breadth.

The entire episode lasts about five minutes before vanishing entirely without any lingering physical aftereffects. What infuriates me most is this absolute inability to comprehend the mechanics of it. Once the event concludes, the memory begins to fade immediately, making it incredibly difficult to describe the sheer intensity of those few minutes. It is as if my brain switched into an entirely different operating mode. This doesn't happen often—maybe just a couple of times a year.

In the past, I kept this to myself because the sheer strangeness of it was frightening, but I was stunned last year when, during a conversation with my college roommate, I realized he experiences the exact same thing. He tried to explain his version, but he too found himself stumbling for the right words. However, we are both certain that we are navigating the same type of "disorder"—this strange duality of something being tiny, quiet, and yet massive and deafening, combined with that feeling of passing through a specific medium. He described it somewhat like traveling through a tube that isn't hollow, but is instead completely solid.

I would be immensely grateful if anyone else who experiences such phenomena would share their accounts. Does anyone know what this might be? Is it a recognized condition? Is there any literature or research on this topic? Most importantly, is this something serious, and should I be seeking out a psychiatrist to discuss it?

😲😲😲
it's exactly, exactly, exactly the same thing😁 I used to think I was losing my mind whenever I tried to tell someone how I constantly feel like I'm touching these things without actually touching them. I can't explain it, and I don't even know how to put it into words, but clearly there are others like me out there. It's exactly what you said: quiet and small, yet huge and loud...
For me, it would happen when I had a fever, so I just chalked it up to hallucinating. But it would also happen when I was totally fine...

It’s almost like I'm touching the tips of my fingers against this massive, enormous thing—like a tube that is both hollow and full at the same time—and everything just keeps slipping through my fingers, it's so strange, I can't even describe it...

It happens to me—though it’s pretty rare—where when I’m heading out to catch a flight
late at night, things like my bedroom door start looking like they’re miles away,
even though they’re right there in front of me.

Noah Thompson3 said:Well, figured I’d chime in too. 😁

I've had some pretty similar experiences myself. For me, it was all about the voices. They’d start out as this low, quiet murmur, and then just keep ramping up the volume until they were practically screaming at me. The thing is, they aren't actually saying anything intelligible—they don't communicate anything specific. After a few minutes of that relentless shouting, I’d get this sensation like the walls around me had turned into soft dough, like I could just push right through them. But at the exact same time, I had this feeling they were sharp on the inside, almost like glass. Soft, yet razor-sharp. 😕
Anyway, I won't ramble on forever...
I actually went and consulted a psychiatrist to figure out what the hell was going on. And I got an answer. Apparently, it's just hallucinations triggered by brain development. As the brain matures and expands, it essentially "tests out" certain neural centers, particularly the sensory ones. That’s why most of this stuff happens during childhood, and eventually, the hallucinations just taper off.

So, does this mean every child experiences these kinds of hallucinations while growing up, or is it not necessarily a universal thing?

Man, something weird is happening to me too... it’s like objects are getting bigger, or like I can suddenly reach out and grab things that are way across the room. I’ve never really given it much thought before, but seeing this thread totally piqued my interest. Also—side note—I’ve got this other issue... right as I'm drifting off to sleep, just a split second before I actually pass out, I get this intense sensation like I'm plummeting off a massive cliff or some kind of ledge. It freaks me out big time. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, I snap wide awake and realize I'm just lying there in bed. Does this happen to anyone else?😕

When I was a kid, whenever I ran a fever, my brain would just turn into a screensaver... this blindingly white background, soft like a cloud, with these massive rubber shapes—like giant truck tires, for instance—drifting across it. You could actually feel the weight of them pressing down on you. It was a weird sensation, honestly pretty terrifying at first, but eventually, I just got used to it. That whole dream/feeling thing stopped ages ago, though now I’ve got much heavier mental stuff to deal with. 🙂

Lately, I have these moments where I lose my bearings for a second or two. I literally have to stop dead in my tracks and talk myself through it—reminding myself who I am, where I am, where I’m headed, what year it is, all that. It doesn't happen constantly and it doesn't last long, but man, it isn't pleasant. I try to chalk it up to being exhausted and the constant stress I'm living under.

But wait, there's more. 😁 Sometimes, when I finally let go and just relax—say, lying in bed with zero thoughts in my head—these random snapshots from my early childhood start flashing before my eyes. Stuff that shouldn't even be in my memory, like dressing up a Barbie doll, walking into a corner store clutching some crumpled dollar bills, or strolling through the woods near my house with my mom. None of it is "important" or traumatic, but it still leaves me feeling this weird sense of anxiety.

Doctor, help me out here.

William Nelson7 said:I I’ve dealt with something similar myself... For me, it happens when I suddenly stop and wonder who I actually am and why the world is being viewed through my eyes. In that exact moment, everything around me just freezes. It feels like a sudden bout of amnesia, though it usually clears up within
a few minutes...

Story of my Life.

I mean, I feel like this is happening to everyone... maybe we're all just stuck in some kind of collective prefrontal cortex meltdown or something???????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????

Lately, maybe for about a year now, right before I drift off to sleep, I swear I see smoke coming out of my mouth. I can see it clearly. Most likely, what I'm experiencing falls under hypnagogic hallucinations, but who knows how it works for everyone else. A friend of mine used to have these altered states of consciousness all the time since she was a kid—always while she was wide awake. Then, around age 23 or 24, she suffered a severe seizure that eventually recurred. So, in her case, there’s probably a direct connection between the two.

I haven't really experienced that specific sensation...
but I have had those moments where I’ll just stop moving, and suddenly it feels like I’m on a spinning carnival ride, just tilting up and down. I can't quite put my finger on it. For a split second, everything just shifts, and it's like being stuck in an elevator where the floor drops out from under you—that sinking feeling of falling... and then it happens again, over and over, like I'm just plummeting downward...
The first time it hit me was right after I finally managed to get off those sleeping pills, so I honestly figured it was just the withdrawal, or maybe just pure exhaustion from lack of sleep...
but it didn't stop there; it happened several more times after that...

During my early childhood, I used to be gripped by this strange, almost "objectified" sense of anxiety right before bed.
It would often kick in just as my mom was tucking me in, specifically in that fleeting moment when the sheet begins to settle over you... My mind would get flooded with these disproportional images—like a tiny ant trying to carry a watermelon that keeps growing, expanding until it’s the size of a house, then a planet, then the entire universe, while the ant itself just shrinks and shrinks into nothingness.
That crushing weight would gradually shift onto me, as if I had become that microscopic little ant myself. I remember feeling so genuinely distressed by it that I actually told my mom I wanted to ask our pediatrician what was happening to me. It felt like it could go on for hours.
The feeling eventually subsided once I started school, though lately, I’ve noticed a few flashbacks creeping in just as I’m drifting off to sleep.🤷

Did most of you kids go through this kind of thing?
I honestly thought I was the only one who saw—and actually FELT—those tiny, massive ripples vibrating in some kind of liquid. 😍
I kind of miss it, actually. It was pretty cool. Not that I'm worried, I guess, though maybe there’s something to it now that you mentioned the epilepsy connection 🤔.

The brain is a weird thing, I suppose.

Oh man, I totally went through the exact same thing! But for me, it was back when I was just a kid. It was super intense, happening almost every single night. Nowadays, it just pops up every once in a while... like, something big, then something small... or maybe something rough and then smooth.... hmm....
How could that possibly be linked to epilepsy?