I have put off talking about Night Terrors, simply because if you've ever had them or spoken with someone who has then you know. You know the fear that is in the eyes of those who have lived through something like that.
There is a huge difference between nightmares and night terrors.
Nightmare's no matter how scary are still just dreams. I have and have had some pretty wicked scary dreams. Dreams so intense I am awoken covered in sheets of my own sweat. Dreams so terrifying I am wiping tears away from my bloodshot eyes. But I am able to push them aside after I have woken. I am able to carry on, and go back to sleep. Most nights.
Night Terrors, now that's a whole different bag of tricks. Night terrors are not nightmares, and there is no waking from them.
The first night I realized I wasn't having a nightmare was eight years ago. I shared a room with a good friend. I had my side and he had his, we had our furniture stacked in the middle, like a makeshift wall. It was a quiet night, I had fallen asleep, and as usual the nightmares came on as soon as I fell asleep. But this time was different, I woke up. The nightmare played across my vision, and slowly faded. Now blurred images of shadowy figures played across the canvas of my vision. I saw my room, I saw the painted white stone of the walls, I saw the light oak furniture forming the great wall in my new prison. I saw the hallway that lead to the bathroom. I saw what time it was, 11:23 pm, I will never forget that. The longest minute of my life.
The shadows danced, and ran across my vision, never escaping the confines of the surfaces around me. I lunged at them, trying with all my might to find something that was real. Anything solid and tangible was what I needed.
I did not find it.
My arms would not move, my legs did not shift. My voice was lost to me. I could not run, I could not cry for help. I was paralysed in my own body, my eyes saw all, my body responded to nothing. The shadows danced faster and faster as my panic and frustration grew. They began to scratch at me, clawing my flesh, poking at my eyes. Tears ran down my faces, blood trickled down my chest. my breathing quickened, and I saw a ray of hope. In that ray, I realized I could clinch my lips and breathe how I wanted.
I had to call for help, I was trapped, and they were attacking me. I couldn't fight for myself I needed help.
I inhaled.
and Inhaled.
I pushed my lips together and forced all the air out of my lungs at once.
"BUUUuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhssss"
I heard the rustling of my roommate.
I inhaled again, and again.
Inhale, force is out, inhale.
Over and over I repeated this, more and more desperation fueled me, pain radiated across my chest and down into my lungs. I was going to hyperventilate soon, I knew it. My back arched, I felt my head dig into my mattress, springs pressing against my scalp, digging in. My heels pressed down, now in full possession pose my body refused to respond and wake up. One last time, I inhaled and with everything I had I called out my roommates name.
"BOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!!!"
I did it, I had called for help, and he came running. He saw me and pushed my solid body causing me to topple.
Bouncing, I regained control of my body. Now fully awake, I saw the room the way it was meant to be seen; shadowy, figure free. The lights came on and took time to regain myself, I explained what had happened, and why my roommate was called upon. I tried to explain that the shadows had cut me, and he interrupted me.
"You are bleeding, across your chest."
I looked down and realized I had been fighting so hard against the shadows that I had dug into, and cut my own skin. Blood was caked under my nails, chunks of skin balled up in my cuts, and between my fingers.
That is a night terror. That may or may not be typical, but nightmares, I can handle. Nightmares I welcome you, any time, any places. Bring it.
Night Terrors... Go F*&K Yourself!
There is a huge difference between nightmares and night terrors.
Nightmare's no matter how scary are still just dreams. I have and have had some pretty wicked scary dreams. Dreams so intense I am awoken covered in sheets of my own sweat. Dreams so terrifying I am wiping tears away from my bloodshot eyes. But I am able to push them aside after I have woken. I am able to carry on, and go back to sleep. Most nights.
Night Terrors, now that's a whole different bag of tricks. Night terrors are not nightmares, and there is no waking from them.
The first night I realized I wasn't having a nightmare was eight years ago. I shared a room with a good friend. I had my side and he had his, we had our furniture stacked in the middle, like a makeshift wall. It was a quiet night, I had fallen asleep, and as usual the nightmares came on as soon as I fell asleep. But this time was different, I woke up. The nightmare played across my vision, and slowly faded. Now blurred images of shadowy figures played across the canvas of my vision. I saw my room, I saw the painted white stone of the walls, I saw the light oak furniture forming the great wall in my new prison. I saw the hallway that lead to the bathroom. I saw what time it was, 11:23 pm, I will never forget that. The longest minute of my life.
The shadows danced, and ran across my vision, never escaping the confines of the surfaces around me. I lunged at them, trying with all my might to find something that was real. Anything solid and tangible was what I needed.
I did not find it.
My arms would not move, my legs did not shift. My voice was lost to me. I could not run, I could not cry for help. I was paralysed in my own body, my eyes saw all, my body responded to nothing. The shadows danced faster and faster as my panic and frustration grew. They began to scratch at me, clawing my flesh, poking at my eyes. Tears ran down my faces, blood trickled down my chest. my breathing quickened, and I saw a ray of hope. In that ray, I realized I could clinch my lips and breathe how I wanted.
I had to call for help, I was trapped, and they were attacking me. I couldn't fight for myself I needed help.
I inhaled.
and Inhaled.
I pushed my lips together and forced all the air out of my lungs at once.
"BUUUuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhssss"
I heard the rustling of my roommate.
I inhaled again, and again.
Inhale, force is out, inhale.
Over and over I repeated this, more and more desperation fueled me, pain radiated across my chest and down into my lungs. I was going to hyperventilate soon, I knew it. My back arched, I felt my head dig into my mattress, springs pressing against my scalp, digging in. My heels pressed down, now in full possession pose my body refused to respond and wake up. One last time, I inhaled and with everything I had I called out my roommates name.
"BOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!!!"
I did it, I had called for help, and he came running. He saw me and pushed my solid body causing me to topple.
Bouncing, I regained control of my body. Now fully awake, I saw the room the way it was meant to be seen; shadowy, figure free. The lights came on and took time to regain myself, I explained what had happened, and why my roommate was called upon. I tried to explain that the shadows had cut me, and he interrupted me.
"You are bleeding, across your chest."
I looked down and realized I had been fighting so hard against the shadows that I had dug into, and cut my own skin. Blood was caked under my nails, chunks of skin balled up in my cuts, and between my fingers.
That is a night terror. That may or may not be typical, but nightmares, I can handle. Nightmares I welcome you, any time, any places. Bring it.
Night Terrors... Go F*&K Yourself!
No comments :
Post a Comment