October 27, 2009
Night Man, Night Man / Sneaky and Mean…
I woke up screaming in the middle of the night or, rather, this morning around 2:30. Too early, although any time one wakes up screaming in terror, I would say, is too early. Surprisingly, it is not at all as interesting as it sounds. (If you’re a fan of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, perhaps I am regularly visited by Night Man?)
I’ve suffered night terrors for as long as I can remember, which, given my antidepressants and my failing memory side effects, may or may not be all that long. I remember them as a child, though, and for the least five years. So, there’s that. I woke up a few times panting and then once I hit the crescendo, I got up, walked into the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub shaking and sweating and, for the first time in my entire history of Le Night Terror, popped a Xanax to take me through it. Part of my medicinal regimen is that I take a light dosage before bedtime to ward off the demons. I have never needed another one in the middle of the night because I was so panicked. I don’t remember the nightmare, and retelling dreams is boring anyway, but they generally feature something grisly. Perhaps I need to start injecting myself with the anti-anxiety drug so it hits me instantly, as I was certain I saw a shadowy figure sitting on our couch as I walked by our bedroom door and looked out into the living room.
The door was slammed and locked.
One can deduce I’ve never had much of a sex life. Waking up in terror may give a boy the impression I’m not really fit for dating. Somewhat hilariously (now, not then) I traveled with my then boyfriend to his hometown to meet his parents, where their goodwill of letting us share a room paid off prodigiously as he was able to wake me up from my screaming fit quickly and without anyone having to rush to the guest bedroom to wake my psychotic ass up. I took a dating hiatus after we eventually broke up. And I know Boyfriend is my soul mate because he hasn’t run away yet because he consoles me and strokes my head softly until I’m able to fall back asleep, demonless. He usually first tries to get me to describe what I’m dreaming during the episode so that he can talk me out of it, and it’s always a little amazing to discuss it the next day. My dreams are like inkblots, nothing makes sense and yet the blotch in my head is still terrifying and ugly.
I suppose I should be sending my bio-dad a thank you note for fucking up my childhood so miserably that I’m imprinted for life. Perhaps I’ll try to make some money off of this, though, and make a t-shirt to sell: “My Bio-Dad Kidnapped Me and all I Got Was Night Terrors for the Rest of My Life.”
I think I’d be able to retire early with the profits.
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Filed under: Daily
Tags: abuse, Anxiety, Boyfriend, Childhood, dreams, father, Fear, gone mental, Home, Insecurities, kidnapping, Life, Me, Memories, Mental, Mental Health, night, night terrors, Nightmares, shame, sleeping, Us, Why I Hate People
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Well, that’s a better marketing plan than I’ve ever been able to conjure up! Go for it!
I say there’s nothing better than waking up scared and instantly being comforted back to peaceful sleep. aagh. (that’s a soothing “aagh”, not a terrified nightmare type)
Em´s last blog ..2 Weeks Late
I wonder if I could make a living off selling t-shirts? Hm… ;)
I absolutely hate nightmares. (I mean, who likes them?) Luckily, I don’t have them often now, but when I was younger, I had them almost on a nightly basis.
Megan´s last blog ..Etsy Love
Ugh, I’m glad you don’t have them often now. I’m so used to them the fact that I have them is more of an eyeroll kind of joke and technically last night was the loudest Boyfriend said it’s ever been. Usually I squeak. I guess I’m kind of like a dog – I wonder if my legs move and I gruff a little because I’m chasing squirrels in my head.
[...] since I’ve seen the topic of “nightmares” come up on a couple blogs (here and here)–I want to talk about the same subject. Fun, [...]
Megan, thanks for the linky love! I so want to respond to your question on your blog, but the first nightmare I remember is super fucked up. In my defense, my father kidnapped me when I was two and it was all traumatic and shit and that’s probably why they’ve always been so bad. (People are always coming to “get” me. Doesn’t take much of a psych examination for that conclusion, eh?) But the first one I remember is, like, BEYOND fucked up. Especially for a kid, because I couldn’t have been older than, I don’t know, 4? 5?
Twitter: kerrianne
Says:
I’m sorry you have to deal with night terrors, babe. On the plus side, staying up late and watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is one of my favorite things to do, and I would happily sit with you and watch re-run after re-run, and who needs to sleep anyway?
(This just in: we might be t.v. soul mates.)
Kerri Anne´s last blog ..This Is Something; This Is Nothing
Thank you sunshine, but meh. I’m so used to it now it’s almost funny. Well, not funny. But I don’t get upset or anything because, hey! It’s a Stacyism! Whee!
Between MacGruber and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, we ARE INDEED television soulmates. We’d never be bored together! I don’t think we would be anyway, I’m just saying. McGroooooooooooBER!
oh, that’s no fun. no fun at all. i’m sorry.
Aw, thank you. I think I made up for my missed sleep, but if not, this weekend will be spent blissfully napping. :)
Twitter: The_Element22
Says:
My recurring nightmare offers a delightful entree of evilness charging wildly at me. In my dream, I pull the trigger of my .40 over and over and over… but no bullets come out.
The exorcism? Hours at the firing range. Proving to myself that the damn thing will. fire. live. rounds.
I don’t know how you go back in time and kidnap your father. But if I could, I’d do it for you.
Titanium´s last blog ..Mango Trango, Porcupine Tango
Dude, you so wouldn’t even want to. Let him be where he is, shootin’ rat’lers in the street with his shotgun. Why yes, I am half hillbilly! Why do you ask?
night terrors are horrible.
once i had one that involved my husband cheating on me with a girl i hated in high school.
i woke up and punched him in the arm (hard) before i could distinguish it from real life. i was also mad at him all day for it. it’s so irrational.
but i have had other horrible ones that made me cry, scream, or shake with terror even as i woke up.
luckily, wm is always willing to soothe me, even if i punch him.
willikat´s last blog ..The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone when we’re uncool.
I wish I could say that I’ve never done that, but Boyfriend is usually the evildoer. It’s become something of a joke between us. It’s not that he would ever be bad to me, I think I just put him in that role because he’s the most important person to me and I don’t want him to be bad. Or something. I’m so glad you also have a boy who will soothe you. Waking up drenched in sweat, shaking and feeling too terrified to get out of bed and close and lock the bedroom door is nothing I’d wish on my worst enemy.
What am I saying. Of course I would wish that on my worst enemy. But not us. ;)
Twitter: iamstillbroken
Says:
I have had Titanium’s same dream, except mine is with a .45 instead of a .40! Same exorcism routine for me.
Sorry you have to deal with this. It’s really just not right when someone can victimize someone for a short while, but it last a lifetime for the victim. I guess I have PTSD about some things, but I don’t react nearly as extreme as you do. And I know it just has to suck pretty hard. What a great man to try to help you relax again.
Stillie´s last blog ..Female Bonding
I had night terrors as a kid and on occasion I have one as an adult. They’re awful. I’m sorry.
Chris´s last blog ..Finding My People Is Like Learning to Drive A Stick Shift