I thought my days, or should I say nights, of bad dreams and nightmares were a thing of the past. The stats say that most Americans experience one to two nightmares a year on the average. PTSD people can have them every night as was my case some years ago. My latest demon, the Saturday Night Demon, quickly reminded me of how close those times can be again. Over the past year, my sleep demons have not crossed over the line into my conscious awareness; so I let them lie without much care. Wil woke me up at 3:45am because I was crying out in my sleep. Yes, I was crying out in my dream as well. I didn’t think I was getting my voice loud enough in my dream due to my fear, so I tried to make my voice louder. Apparently, it came out pretty loud in our bedroom. In the dream I was pinned down under some one in a car. I could not see him; but could only see the darkness outside the car window. I felt like I was being squished and I couldn’t breathe. Where’s Jack Bauer when I need him. Thanks to trazodone I was able to go back to sleep without much trouble. This dream seemed awfully vivid and strong to just be the average nightmare. Was this Saturday Night Demon just that; or is it an old memory launching its assault? All I know is that I feel tired from it today, just like I used to feel years ago when this shit reared its ugly head.
Until next time…
As far as I can remember, Denise has never woken me up from me talking in my sleep. I’ve said things in my sleep, so I’m told, but it was something like tongues, no real words to make sense of.
My dad used to talk in his sleep. One night, I remember him saying to his platoon, “Come on, move, move move god damnit, move!” I’ve always thought that a bit funny, but scary at the same time. Christ knows what kind of dreams he’s had. He’s been through three wars over a 28 year career in the US Army. He fought in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.