Worm reckons day-sleeping (something new-dad Brit is having resort to) can contribute to night terrors. My experience leads me to agree. I can't blame my diurnal snoozing on something as glamorous as Worm's nightclubbing, though.
When I was a student (second time round) I often found it a struggle to leave the college bar of an evening; this meant I couldn't help napping with my head ensconced in the creamy pages of a dog-eared tome the following afternoon. And lo! the night terrors began.
I experienced them just a handful of times but they took a peculiar form. I would wake in the early hours to feel a presence at the end of the bed. 'Opening' my eyes (still partly asleep) I would see hovering there the pale figure of a little old man, sunken cheeked and balding but with wispy white tendrils of hair brushing his shoulders. He invariably wore a silk patterned kimono wrapped tight around his shrunken form.
Gratifyingly, in a way, my response was to leap out of bed and, with a blood curdling scream, attack the little blighter. Of course, I ended up crashing into the opposite wall of my small college room.
Naturally, living in a communal house in the grounds of a communal college, this sort of thing gets noticed. I know it freaked out some, who assumed the house was haunted (or at least, that's what they claimed).
In the years immediately after leaving college - perhaps half-a-dozen times - I felt a similar presence but not in its original charming form. Thankfully, I learnt to moderate my response: a sharp gasp before rolling back over to sleep.