I've had vivid nightmares my whole life. Nightmares that would keep me awake for hours, worried about the monsters under my bed, chasing me, tracking me, coming to get me. Just before meeting Bahamute these dropped drastically in frequency, now a distant third to stress dreams and normal dreams, when I remember dreaming at all.
There are exceptions, however.
Recently, Bahamute and I took a quick trip to visit the inlaws. It was a great weekend, marred only slightly by my anxiety. The second night of our 2 night 2.5 day trip, I was tossing and turning. I managed to get to sleep, but my brain was overtaxed, and I started having very strange dreams.
The nightmare started when (in the dream) I needed to pee and excused myself to the basement bathroom (which is real, though not as nice as the upstairs bath). I looked down the stairs, and saw a second staircase going upwards.
Of course in reality, the stairs lead to a nice basement, not a void and another staircase. But I wasn't worried about that.
I was worried about the shadow person.
It was a cliche, but no less scary, since some cliches exist for a reason. A thing made of shadows, down on all fours, grinning at me with no mouth. It did one of those jumpcut teleport things, appeared at the bottom of my stairs, and chased me back to the living room.
I was screaming when the thing caught up. I grabbed it, and it was really soft and squishy, like one of those round microbead pillows.
"Look! Look!" I stretched it's grinning face in front of Bahamute and his mom. "Help me! Just look!"
The two of them were laughing, facing different directions.
"Just turn your heads!" I pleaded.
Then I woke up.
My nightmares have often returned to the well of 'something horrible is after me, but nobody will acknowledge it/believe me". Part of this stems from my love of 'turning of age' movies: nobody ever believes the kids in those things. Unless it's well written.
But I'm 30, damnit. I've come and gone of age. And my tales of horror have been met with incredulity, but usually not outright disbelief, or refusal to see what's going on. So I have no idea what that was all about.
When I woke from the dream, I wasn't scared, but more confused and exhausted. I think the nightmare was brought on by a combo of Markiplier binging and getting these blogs ready.
All told, it's been a while since I've had a regular nightmare, and not a stress dream. It was a nice change.
There are exceptions, however.
Recently, Bahamute and I took a quick trip to visit the inlaws. It was a great weekend, marred only slightly by my anxiety. The second night of our 2 night 2.5 day trip, I was tossing and turning. I managed to get to sleep, but my brain was overtaxed, and I started having very strange dreams.
The nightmare started when (in the dream) I needed to pee and excused myself to the basement bathroom (which is real, though not as nice as the upstairs bath). I looked down the stairs, and saw a second staircase going upwards.
Of course in reality, the stairs lead to a nice basement, not a void and another staircase. But I wasn't worried about that.
I was worried about the shadow person.
It was a cliche, but no less scary, since some cliches exist for a reason. A thing made of shadows, down on all fours, grinning at me with no mouth. It did one of those jumpcut teleport things, appeared at the bottom of my stairs, and chased me back to the living room.
I was screaming when the thing caught up. I grabbed it, and it was really soft and squishy, like one of those round microbead pillows.
"Look! Look!" I stretched it's grinning face in front of Bahamute and his mom. "Help me! Just look!"
The two of them were laughing, facing different directions.
"Just turn your heads!" I pleaded.
Then I woke up.
My nightmares have often returned to the well of 'something horrible is after me, but nobody will acknowledge it/believe me". Part of this stems from my love of 'turning of age' movies: nobody ever believes the kids in those things. Unless it's well written.
But I'm 30, damnit. I've come and gone of age. And my tales of horror have been met with incredulity, but usually not outright disbelief, or refusal to see what's going on. So I have no idea what that was all about.
When I woke from the dream, I wasn't scared, but more confused and exhausted. I think the nightmare was brought on by a combo of Markiplier binging and getting these blogs ready.
All told, it's been a while since I've had a regular nightmare, and not a stress dream. It was a nice change.
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