Tag Archives: nightmares

ALL I EVER DREAMED OF IS A GOOD NIGHT’S REST

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The alarm clock rang incessantly, and its annoying screams eventually awakened me. I’m a heavy sleeper because each night before I go to bed, I drink a glass of wine. It never fails to put me to sleep. Unfortunately, it hasn’t put an end to my nightmares. In fact, they are even more vivid than the nightmares I suffered from when I was a child. The only difference is now I can remember the dreams after I wake up. And when I was a child, my dreams would be forgotten once I woke up each morning.

My dreams are often vivid and filled with events that wake me up, sometimes screaming out loud in terror. When I woke up, I could not remember what the nightmare was about. And I thank god for that because if I remembered any of my dreams, no amount of alcohol before I went to bed would be able to lull me to sleep ever again.

Tired woman in the office sleeping

 

My nightmares have been haunting me all of my life as far back as I remember. When I was a child, my mother took me to the pediatrician and explained how these nightmares would wake me up every night and wake up everyone who lived in our house. He told my mother that I had night terrors, which were a common occurrence with young children whose brains were still developing. And over time, the nightmares would cease. But mine never did. It is an everyday occurrence for me.

I never tell people I know I suffer from nightmares because I’m a grown woman. And I’m sure they would tell me that I’m not a child anymore and shouldn’t be having these nightmares anymore. As a result, during the day, I often have vivid flashbacks from my most recent nightmares without any warning.

Occasionally the flashback is so vivid that I will shout out with fear or run screaming out of whatever room. This has happened so often at my workplace that my coworkers started complaining to our boss that I was disrupting their concentration. I was called into his office because of these complaints. I explained the problem to my boss. I told him that I was unaware of my behavior when it was occurring since I was asleep. And the night terror only lasts a minute or two. And there was no treatment for it. I informed him I had been to a sleep specialist, psychologist, and psychiatrist. They all said there was no real cure. That they could put me on heavy-duty sleep aides. But the side effect was that in the morning, when I woke up, I had a hangover from the medication for several hours and had difficulty concentrating. I have lost several jobs because of this problem.

Most recently, my boss said that he could only think of two solutions. The first was letting me go, which he didn’t want to do because, aside from these sleep episodes, I was a valuable employee. So, his only recourse was for me to work at home. And then to come into my office once a week and play catch-up with my boss. And he thought that was the best solution for me and my fellow employees.

My response was to stare blankly at my boss. I really didn’t want to spend my whole work life at home working at my desk in my bedroom. I was sure this would lead me to develop even more problems, including loneliness, and becoming even more inhibited and neurotic than I already was.

My boss waited several moments, and then he said, “so Amelia, what do you think? Work from home sound good?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I guess I will have to give it a go. I will miss seeing all my workmates. But I guess I don’t really have any other choice. When will this change in venue happen?”

“Well, there is no time like the present. Why don’t you go in and start packing up your desk? Please take your work computer and anything else you need home with you. And let’s say that after you get settled in your new home office, you contact personnel and let them know how things are going. And if you need anything else. Let’s try this for the next month, and then you can let us know how you are doing. And we will see if we have to make any further adjustments.

And then he stood up and walked me to the door, and said, “please keep in touch. Let me know if you encounter any problem that we haven’t foreseen. And let me know, and we will put our brains together and devise a solution. Talk to you soon, Amelia. Sorry, but I have to go right now. There is a big meeting that I’m about to be late for if I don’t get moving immediately.”

And that was the beginning of the end for me. Of course, it didn’t happen right away. It happened slowly over time. In fact, it happened so painfully slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening. I slowly began to unravel.

After about a week of working alone at my desk in my bedroom, I began to lose time. And by that, I mean while I was working on my computer, I would drift slowly into a deep sleep. But, somehow, during these short naps, I kept working away. But, when I woke up, I had no memory of the work I had done. None at all. I would look down at my computer and not recollect completing the work. I would then spend the rest of the day going over all the work to see if it was complete bologna or acceptable.

And to my surprise, the work I completed at home was perfection. Even better than the work I did when I worked in the office. I was doing so well, in fact, that I decided that each afternoon I would take a break and go for a walk, go out to lunch, or do some shopping so that I could reconnect with my fellow human and not turn into some hermit.

But to my utter surprise, the first time I went out for lunch to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, the owner came over to my booth and said, “oh, what a wonderful surprise. It’s such a pleasure to see you so soon again.”

I stared at him and said, “so soon again, Jose?” I don’t even remember the last time I was here. Maybe you are mixing me up with one of your other customers?”

“Mixing you up? No, for the past three weeks, you have come here every Monday and Thursday for lunch, and now here you are on Wednesday.”

“What? Well, I must be overtired or something. I don’t really recall that at all. I recently started working from home and haven’t been going out. And I started feeling claustrophobic from being alone all day and all night.”

Jose stared at me with a perplexed look on his face. And then he said, “wait a minute, I can prove it. I’ll show you a picture of you and several other customers when you pulled all your tables together and ate lunch. And then you all started dancing after eating. You have to remember that, Amelia?”

I sat there looking at him like he had lost his mind. And then he returned with a large picture of a group of people laughing and dancing in the middle of the room with all the tables pushed against the wall. And then Jose’ pointed his finger at a woman wearing a bright skirt and a flowered shirt and a sombrero on her head. I picked up the picture and put it as close to her eyes as possible and still distinguish the people. And sure enough, there was a woman that bore an unbelievable resemblance to herself. “Well, I’ll admit she does look like me. But it can’t be. It just can’t. I don’t remember that at all.”

Jose’ said, wait a minute, I’ll bring over the staff, and they can reassure you.”

“What, on no, don’t do that. But, before I even finished his sentence, Jose called all the staff into the dining area. And they all reassured her that she had indeed been coming there often, and on that particular night, she had been the life of the party.

“I guess I will have to believe you. But, I don’t really understand why I don’t have any memory of any of this at all.” Jose came over and said, “ well, I hope you will keep coming as often as possible because we will all miss you if you don’t. And he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

My face blushed all the way up to the roots of my hair. And then, I sat back in her chair and waited for my lunch to be brought out. By now, her stomach was growling and churning. A few minutes later, Jose’ brought her lunch to her table and said, “enjoy. Please let me know if you would like anything else. How about some Sangria?”

“I would love that, but I think I am confused enough as it is. Maybe next time. It all looked delicious as I sat there eating a burrito. It occurred to me that perhaps the reason I didn’t remember coming here was that I had been sleepwalking. It seemed far-fetched. But what else would explain not having a memory when of the events? When it was clear that I had been coming there. The only other possibility was that I had completely lost my mind. And at this point in time, she had no desire to believe she was bonkers. Perhaps I should go back into therapy?

As I swallowed the last delicious bite of my meal. I had decided that whatever was happening was out of my control. And I would continue on with my life and see what happened. It was clear that part of me wanted to be happy and so why shouldn’t I ?

And so that is how I began living my life to the fullest, and although I don’t remember all of it, at some level, I was having the time of my life. And I was going to go for it.

One morning I woke up and felt like I might be hungover, although I didn’t remember what had happened to me the night before. At least, I thought it was one night. But when I rolled over, I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t in her bed. “Good grief, I said out loud.” I leaned over and looked at the man lying beside me. I couldn’t imagine who it was. I was afraid to know, and then I saw Jose’s handsome face and mustache. “Wake up, wake up, Jose.”

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For Whom The Bell Tolls

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I’m in a deep Temazepam-induced sleep. I have been experiencing a bout of insomnia for the past several months. I hear a relentless ringing in the distance. The sound becomes part of my dream.

In my dream, I’m forced to return to work at Dr. Wozniak’s office, answering phone calls. I worked there while I was in high school and until I was twenty-one. For some unknown reason, forty years later, I’m still dreaming about working there. I have had countless jobs since that first job, but the dream continues.

Finally, I emerge from the foggy depths of my dreamland and realize that the ringing is coming from my phone, not from deep within my subconscious. I stagger somewhat haphazardly over to the phone. I trip over my slippers and stub my toe.

“Hello, hello, do you know what time it is? Who is this? What do you want?”

“You don’t know me, but I know you. I know where you live. I know that you drive an old white Subaru Wagon. I know you drove through the light at the intersection at William Dalton Boulevard last Tuesday, the fifteenth of October. I saw what you had in the back of your wagon. Unless you meet with me and give me $10,000 dollars, I’m going to tell the police all about it. I have pictures of your car and your tags.”

“What in the world are you talking about? You must be some nut. Do not call me again. I’ll call the police and tell them that you’re trying to extort money from me.” I hang up the phone and bang it in the cradle about ten times for good measure.

I stumble back to bed, managing to stub my big toe once again. I curse up a storm. SOB I moan, as I rub my poor beleaguered toe. I throw myself back into bed and pull the covers over my head. I tightly close my eyes and try to will myself back to sleep. Nothing. Sleep does not visit me. I’m reluctant to take another sleeping pill.

I‘ll be a mess tomorrow if I do. I have a busy day tomorrow, including an appointment with the accountant, which I have been dreading. I know that when he goes over my accounts, I’m going to owe a pretty chunk of change to Old Uncle Sam’s coffers.

The phone conversation keeps running through my mind as if it is on a memory loop. I’m the first person to acknowledge that I have obsessive-compulsive thoughts. Thoughts I have difficulty controlling.

What in the world was this guy talking about? What does he think he saw in my car? He had described my car, but I’m sure plenty of old Subaru Wagons are still on the roads. I try to recall the fifteenth of October. I just can’t. I‘ll have to check my calendar tomorrow. I would do it right now if my brain weren’t in a complete fog. I flip on the lamp and write a note on the pad. I keep it there to record my random thoughts and insights in the wee hours. Unfortunately, my handwriting, under the best circumstances, looks like a chicken scratch.

After tossing and turning for three hours. I admit to myself I won’t go back to sleep this night. I dangle my legs over the side of the bed and push my feet into my bedraggled slippers. They are on the wrong feet. I leave them that way.

I make my way downstairs, almost tripping over my cat, Hilda.  Sometimes, I think she might have a homicidal side to her personality. She has repeatedly caused or nearly caused me to fall down the steps.

I turn on the lights as I pass through the living room, the dining room, and finally into my office. I sit down at my desk, turn on my computer, and look at my calendar. On the fifteenth of October, I taught a class on haircutting at the main J.C. Penny’s hair salon. Huh? What in the world does he think he saw? What did I have in the back of the car?”

I think about it for about two minutes. It comes to me. I had the mannequin heads piled up in my back seat. My students had practiced a haircut and blowout on them. I took them home in my car so I could return them to the main office the next day. I sit there for a moment and start laughing out loud. What did this guy think I was some kind of serial killer? Did he think that I kept heads as souvenirs?

The phone rings again. It is now almost four o’clock in the morning.

“Hello.”

“Alright, lady, now you have had time to consider the situation you are in. When do I get my money? If you don’t give it to me tomorrow, I will start adding interest to it.”

“Well, buddy, I’ll tell you where you can go. I didn’t do anything wrong. So, feel free to report it to the police along with the pictures. Then you can go straight to hell.”

I slam down the phone. I start laughing again, a real belly laugh. I get up, turn out the lights, walk back up to my bedroom, and fall asleep. I haven’t had any trouble sleeping since then. I sleep like a newborn baby. No more Temazepam for me.