It’s just a nightmare.
I rarely have nightmares.
Since last week, I haven’t slept without having one.
It is starting to become a part of my routine. At one point I was hoping that exhausting myself would mean I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night. It didn’t work. There was a time in my life I had the most vivid dreams. Then I stopped dreaming completely. Then the dreams came like re-run; they reminded me of old dreams. Then they stopped again.
For the past few months my dreams were reflections of reality. They weren’t the fantasies of the past. I’d sometimes wake up feeling like I never slept. The first hour or so of waking up would be hard to figure out whether I’m remembering a dream or remembering a memory.
I don’t dream anymore. I just have nightmares.
The funny thing about dreams is that you recall them so well in your head in the morning but the moment you try transcribing them, suddenly the memories fall apart. The chemicals in your head know you’re trying to release them so they break apart. They remind you that you are awake and dreaming is for sleeping. But a nightmare? Nightmares don’t leave. They linger. You don’t always remember what the nightmare was, but you do remember how it made you feel. It doesn’t go away.
This past week, my nightmares have been memorable. I can’t shake them. I can’t remember what I was doing at 8PM yesterday but I can remember what startled me awake on Tuesday at 4 in the morning.
I was in a forest and I kept waking up. Sometimes I was really waking up. Other times I was waking up in the dream. The forest was unforgiving. It was cold. It was hard to walk in. Everything was kind of purple. I was angry that I kept waking up. I didn’t want to wake up. Every time I woke up I was more exhausted. I was colder too. When I was finally awake, my heart was beating like someone just jump scared me. It didn’t mesh with the dream at all, which was more aggravating than scary.
I was back to the forest, only this time I was in a cottage. The cottage was caved in. It was a lot like living in the game The Long Dark, only I wasn’t cold. It wasn’t snowing. I don’t know why I wasn’t cold when I was cold in the other dream. I was actually sweating. I was just alone in the cottage and I kept saying to myself, “They are alive.” Eventually I started spinning, everything was spinning and I woke up in a cold sweat.
This one was unlike the others. It was a nightmare rolled into a nightmare. The first came with me in an argument with a mix between Frank N. Ferter from Rocky Horror Picture Show and Paul Newman. The reason is hard to see. But they told me that I wouldn’t ever escape them. It was do or die and I chose die. I didn’t care. I walked away and stepped into what looked like a highway. Nothing but darkness and the orange glow of street lights. It was then I was hit by something. I hit the ground and woke up.
I pulled myself up in my bed and woke up from the dream, only to feel someone behind me. The person leaned into me and said, “There’s no running!” and I truly woke up.
A nightmare rolled into a nightmare. Fucked me for my whole day.
I was back in “school”. I say that because whenever I dream about school, it’s this bizarre combination of every school I went to. When I walk the halls, I see classmates at different ages. The elementary lockers will stop with cracks in the wall only for my high school lockers to follow. I’ve had this dream many times. It’s a reoccurring dream and every time I have it, it feels like more is being added to it. The bell rang and I watched as nobody listened to it. Everyone kept walking. Then I saw myself at a younger age holding his stomach. He was bleeding. I tried to run to him but I couldn’t reach him. He just kept bleeding. I couldn’t hear anything and then white flashes. I woke up.
I got into an argument with my friends girlfriend about coupons. No really, it was about coupons. I remember that quite well right now. It was about who got to use the coupons. Eventually I walked away saying it was pointless to argue and she grabbed me by the head and dunked me underwater. I remember being underwater for quite some time before pulling my head out. I was laughing about it. I saw my friend later to tell him what happened and he asked me why I wasn’t dead yet. I said I guess I found this all a joke. Him and his girlfriend left. The next memory was me coughing, coughing up the water. The coughing stopped when I was back underwater. I stayed until I woke up this morning.
Dreams into Nightmares
The strange thing about my nightmares is that I can fall back to sleep after them. And I usually do, and then I end up having to rush for work because it’s hard to get out of bed after that. You just want to sleep without a nightmare, and the sleep I get post-nightmares is rarely thinking about everything. Like my brain has already scared me, it doesn’t have to do it again.
On Facebook after I mentioned the Thursday dream she said, “Trying to work something out?” it was hard to answer. I’m always working something out. And there have been events in my life that make sense to my brain popping these ideas. Ideas of running away. Ideas of escaping someone. There’s certainly a lot on my mind and I’m feeling like the summer is getting away from me.
I was having these nightmares before but on Monday I made a difficult decision that I don’t know if I’m entirely satisfied with yet. And making that decision has been affecting me. And I’d hate for the person to read it and feel like they are responsible, because it’s all mine to bare. I’ve got a lot to figure out and I should figure it out now instead of later. Maybe then the nightmares will stop. Or maybe they won’t. Either way, it’s nice to talk about them.
I recently read someone say on Facebook that their worst fear is dying alone. Sometimes I wonder if my worst fear is dying with someone else.
Well that’s a depressing thought. I’m turning into Saddy Dumpington. Isn’t that great?
I need to be more like the Killer Dynamo.