Horrid Dreams

I haven’t really talked about it too much. It seems almost impossible that my mind is working the way that it is. All my life I’ve been plagued with the most horrid of dreams but as of late it hasn’t been that bad of a problem. At least that’s how it was until almost four days ago. It’s not like something otherworldly is happening but I just can’t understand why it’s started up again. I can understand having these sorts of dreams when I was a child. Being young, abused, abandoned and emotionally unset I can definitely tell how bad dreams can plague my mind but right now things are much better. I’m not a victim any longer. I am no longer abused emotionally or physically. I just can’t quite put my finger on why this is happening. I’ve never really had an easy go of going to sleep. I hated sleeping when I was younger because I thought there was no possible way to be creative or come up with creative ideas while your sleep. I hate it even more now, as an adult, but for different reason. The other day I dreamt the scariest dream I’ve ever experienced in my life. Sometimes I have repeat nightmares for when I was a child but the thing about those is that I often times can tell that I’m dreaming. It’s like once you see something enough you know it’s not real. I know I’m going to wake up. The horrid part is that I can’t. I know that I die and I know about the torture that happens while I’m sleeping but I also know that I wake up in the end. Knowing this makes going through the dream harder. It’s like I’m trying to convince myself that I’m sleep and just to wake up but it never happens. I have to lie there with the man at the foot of my bed, slicing into the bottom of my feet. I have to feel the burn in my chest as the two women hold me under water, drowning me. I have to run, at full speed, with the small child in my arms as they chase us with knives and pitch forks. I have to do all this knowing that none of it is real and yet if I decide to stop running…I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen. It changes everything. The last time I stopped running, turned and told them that I was dreaming they laughed. They didn’t even acknowledge that I was speaking. They laughed and they came towards me slowly, as if taunting me. One man had ripped the little girl from my arms and threw her to the ground. She looked just like me, that little face, like lighter, honey eyed version of me with my dimples and reddish, brown and blonde hair. I didn’t even watch what they did to her, I just kept yelling I was dreaming and they just kept laughing. I tried to stop the things that happened next and I couldn’t. I remember waking, my body covered in sweat and tears streaming down my cheeks. The day before yesterday I dreamed a movie. I dreamed that I was in a movie and that the actual events were taking place. Partly, I had to stand by and watch them, the couple that were the main star of the story, tie up three young kids. One had to be around six, one was twelve and the other about fifteen years old. I remember them disappearing and seeing on the news after waking up one morning (in the dream). I remember then being in the house with them, back off set, and listening to a federal agent scream at them. He kept asking “Where are the children? Where are the children” and for the longest the couple screamed back until finally they gave up. They lead us back to a room at the rear of the house and there I saw the most monstrous thing I have ever experienced in my life. They’d cut them to pieces. The walls, the ceiling, the floors…everything was covered in blood. The woman had stepped down into the room and looked around like it was her masterpiece and said “isn’t it beautiful?” I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. I woke from the dream, hearing a whimpering sound that seems to come from me but I couldn’t even clear my throat to speak. I cuddled close, was held tight and closed my eyes but I can’t get that sight out of my mind. Fake or not, my imagination or not, I feel like I no longer have an innocent haze over my mind. I’ve never seen death like that in real life but I seem to still have found a way to see the worst parts of the world. Most of my dreams I can’t remember now but at the time, those few moments upon awaking, I can feel the horror and terror still. I don’t remember what the dream was about but I still have the feeling. In sleep, even been cuddled and safe in someone’s arms I’m still not safe; not truly. I am my own nightmare and going to sleep scares me. I admit I am scared of something. It isn’t the normal type of fear. I guess I’m just terrified of my own subconscious. I’m hoping things will go back to normal soon because no matter how long I sleep I can’t rest and I’m getting really exhausted. It seems like the only way I can sleep decently is to drink before I sleep. That’s what I’ve been doing and it sounds crazy to drink yourself to sleep but up until this past Sunday it was the only thing that works. Sunday I tried and it seemed worse than ever. I just want a good nights rest. :Starting A New...