For almost two weeks now every night my sleep, or what I can get of it, has been plagued by extremely vivid and realistic dreams. To the point that when I wake up the dream world and reality are blurred together, and I don’t know where I am, and the dream feels like a memory of a true past.
These dreams are nothing compared to the nightmares that would follow… these last two nights being the worst.
I should preface this by saying I have been working 28 out of the 30/31 days of the month, so stress is most definitely a factor. And to those of you who also struggle with any form of mental illness, stress will kill you, it is possibly your most dangerous opponent.
The first dream was like the Supernatural episode “Mystery Spot,” except I was Dean, and I wasn’t being killed, I was doing the killing, and I was the victim. Throughout the night I watched myself commit suicide again, and again, and again. Never in the same way, never the same scenario, but no one was ever able to get there to save me in time thought they tried, I was always successful. The entire day following that night that nightmare was playing through my head; at work, at home, in the shower, I was constantly watching a playback of my suicides, and while the scenarios themselves occurred only in my mind, the emotional and mental toll was all too real.
Then there was last night, which I’m sure part of it was due to reading H.P. Lovecraft’s “Beyond the Wall of Sleep,” where a man from the Catskills would wake up screaming of a flaming enemy he must kill at all costs, where he would become extremely volatile until lapsing back into his “normal” hillbilly demeanor. But I digress.
Last night’s nightmare began with my being on a mission with a group of people whom I can not recall, and at first it was harmless, then another group who I remember being people I genuinely cared about and loved did everything in their power to end my life. Broken and battered I attempted to continue as if nothing happened, even going to school the next day, where I found them waiting, feigning guilt, trying to get close to me in order to finish off what they started. And the friend who was there with me, who happens to be a very close friend of mine in real life, was clueless and allowed this to happen as he watched.
I woke up this morning scared, angry, trapped, and yet hollow and depressed. Exhausted after having another night of rest eluding me.
Why is this happening to me? Why do the people I care about, and who I thought cared for me, do everything they can to make my life a living hell. I would like to think of myself as a good person, one who strives to better the lives of those around her, but is it just a facade? Are these dreams and nightmares a way of my subconscious telling me that I’m anything but? That I will never be able to have a happy life, my fate lies in pain and torment for eternity… and if that is the case, what’s the point?