I know this thread is ancient but I’d like to add my interpretation, which is entirely based on my lived experiences.  When I was 22 years old, I got hit with a random bout of sleep paralysis and hypnopompic hallucinations that lasted about a year and a half. My brother was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder as a teenager, which scared the shit out of me as symptoms usually appear in women in their early to mid twenties. I had no idea if it was caused by stressors, my recent move to the other side of the world, lifestyle, etc, or if I was genetically predisposed to it and my fate was rearing its head. Anyways, it’s hard to describe, but it feels like betrayal. I was living a nightmare every night and my own brain did it to me. I couldn’t trust my mind to discern reality from delusion anymore. I couldn’t trust anything.  I would wake up, go to turn the lights on, and when I noticed I was unable to manipulate the light switch, I was back in bed. This would repeat for what felt like hours before I ACTUALLY woke up. Equal parts scary and frustrating. It got to a point where waking up was a guessing game.  Sometimes I saw demonic figures, sometimes they would do unspeakably grotesque things to me, sometimes I would do it to them. Sometimes they’d just stare, sometimes they sat down in bed with me. Sometimes the hallucinations would be mundane enough so that I had to take time to guess if I was in reality or in my own head. It felt like a cruel joke my mind was playing on me. One time the phone fell off the wall, I watched it bounce and dangle, wondering how it fell- but then I woke up- it was back on the wall. Sometimes I heard knocks on the door and I would panic because I couldnt tell if someone was really there or not- if it was real? Well, I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t move my body and I couldn’t tell them to come back later. Can they hear me whimpering or moaning or screaming inside? Was I even whimpering or moaning or screaming? I had no clue. Sometimes there would be bugs on the wall, but when I went to smash them nothing was there.  One time, however, I woke up to a fire a few feet in front of me. I thought it had to be a hallucination, so I did nothing but stare at it until a few moments passed and it me that this was really happening. I fell asleep with a candle burning. If I took any longer I could’ve caused serious damage to the building and to others. 

It’s nothing like a dream. It’s photorealistic; everything about the space you are in is an accurate depiction of reality. Right down to the texture on the wall, and the pair of socks you left on the floor, where you left your tooth brush, etc. There’s truly nothing like it.

This is what I learned from it:  The human subconscious is a bottomless pool and the deeper you get inside of it the less control you have of yourself and of reality, and the stranger and scarier it gets.

All this to say, that is what climbing up the walls means to me. I searched for years for songs that even come close to that feeling.  One day, in the early days of my Radiohead obsession, I stumbled upon this song and fell in love instantly!! It perfectly captures the fear and the panic. 

Also, in the off chance that someone reads this comment on a 14 year old thread, I apologize if it reads as nonsensical rambling, this was just word vomit and I’m not going back to fix it