The Coldness that Wakes Me

         I’m so cold. And it happens so much. But it can’t be stopped. We’ve tried that. We’ve tried all sorts of treatments. Like pills. Ha. Like pills would do anything to stop the coldness. Nothing can stop the coldness. The first time it happened, I was so petrified that I made my own fire in the fireplace and put my hands in. By the time my hands were warmed up enough, my mom yanked me out of the fire, and I had suffered from third degree burns.

         One desperate night, Joseph Welshman was tortured by an extreme coldness that controlled his body. After burning himself the first time it came upon him, he was rushed to the emergency room and treated for the burns. He told them of the tortuous ice he had felt as the cause for the burn, but the doctors wouldn’t believe him. The second time it happened, Welshman’s mother heard him in his bed and witnessed his freezing spasms. The doctors tried everything they could, but could not come up with a cause for the phenomenon, and thus no cure as well. Welshman now has to deal with “The Coldness."

         The coldness comes more and more frequently. When the doctors finally believed me, they made up a name for it. Sporadic CryoInsomnia. “Sporadic” because I never know when it will come, but it’s always when I’m trying to sleep. “Cryo” because of the cold ice I feel, and “Insomnia” because it wakes me up and keeps me awake until it’s done with me. And I know now that I can’t stop it, so I just start crying, waiting for the pains to come. I take it like a man. I take it…like a man. I take it…
         I’ve tried wearing tons of clothes. I started out with just my boxers, but then I added a shirt. And then socks. A beanie and another pair of socks. Two pairs of pants and a long sleeve shirt. A sweatshirt and a jacket. And a coat. But nothing stops the coldness. The clothes don’t help at all. Not one iota. So instead of wasting my clothes during the night, I’ve just gone back to my boxers.
         And I take it...
         It starts with my toes. Always. Then my ankles and fingers, to my knees and wrists. And then my hips and my crotch. My shoulders and my armpits. Two of the warmest areas of the body, and they fall helplessly to the freezing cold. Then it travels through my intestines and into my stomach. By now I’ve started shivering fairly heavily. Then the cold travels up my esophagus, down my windpipe and into my lungs. From there…my heart. And when it takes my heart, it is so obvious because my heartbeat becomes irregular. Bum…bum bum…bum…bum bum bum…bum bum…bum. And it hurts so much. With the irregular heartbeat comes the convulsions. The spasms…that I can’t control. I am never in control. After my lungs and heart, the coldness has an easy passage to my head. And there it goes. My mouth becomes locked open so that I can breath. My ears become virtually non-existent. And my eyes close out of reaction. And when my eyes close, the nightmares assail my mind.
         People say that all dreams and nightmares are completely random pieces of memory put together in a mirage mural for our mind. But the nightmares I get are not at all random. Snow, ice, glaciers, arctic water, and mountaintops. I am usually not wearing hardly anything in the nightmares. Nothing but my naked mind. To stop the nightmares, I force my eyes open every time. And I realize that now I’m watching my own body convulse sporadically, due to the temperature. I’m still not sure which is worse: become frozen in the nightmares with frostbite, or witness the involuntary spasms of my own pathetic body. Usually, I close my eyes again.
         When asked whether they would rather live in cold weather or warm weather, a lot of people say cold weather. They say this because “It’s easier to add clothes on than to take clothes off. You can only take off so much clothing.” But those people do not feel what I feel. They do not suffer like I suffer. They have not experienced the coldness that I have. I would give anything to feel hot…or warm…or lukewarm…or even cool. But not cold. Never again do I want to feel the cold.
         It takes about five minutes to take over my body. And it stays in control for about an hour and a half. So far, I’ve fought against the coldness until it’s done with me. But I wonder that if I surrender whether or not it will let me die. At least the pain will stop. After becoming a slave to the coldness, the lack of all heat, I am not afraid to die anymore. This, living with the…it, is hell enough for me. I guess…if you can’t beat them, join them.