horrible nightmares and beautiful realities

I did not sleep well last night. And I’ve been up since roughly 3:30 this morning because after the dream I had, there was no way I was going back to sleep. It was so incredibly vivid and realistic and I still FEEL it…now, even 7 hours later. Perhaps it’s a past-life memory (I’ve had a few dreams like that, but this one was the first in a LONG time that woke me out of a dead sleep screaming, crying and clutching at my neck.) I still feel like I’m choking/strangling. I dreamed I was in England somewhere, 17-18th century. I was in a huge crowd of people, and at first I didn’t know what was happening, but I gradually figured out they were all gathering to watch a group of executions. I remember the texture of the street I was standing on, the smells, etc. I was being pushed along by this crowd of people when it became clear that one of the people supposed to be executed had escaped, and the crowd was calling for a scapegoat. They needed a standin. Somehow I was volunteered. Don’t ask me how that happened. At first I was assured that it was symbolic only, and that I would physically be okay. But I was led up to the scaffold where the hangings were supposed to take place, and all of a sudden, they were reading an order of execution with MY NAME on it – not the other person’s. And I was going to be executed for something I didn’t do. And they all KNEW I didn’t do it, but they didn’t care. At first, I was on the end of a row of about 15 other people. I was measured, and had the noose put around my neck but not attached to the crossbeam. Then I was moved to the second group on the other side of the platform. I had to go back down the stairs to get fitted for my own coffin (yikes, seriously) and as I was at the bottom, the first group was dropped. I vividly remember watching their feet for signs of a struggle to see if their necks had broken or if they were kicking/struggling and suffocating to death. As I was led back up the stairs, I remember the thoughts I was having – I was thinking that I couldn’t kick if my legs were tied together – but they weren’t. I was thinking to beg the executioner to make sure the knot in the rope was behind my ear like it was supposed to be, and telling myself that if my neck didn’t break, to do my best not to struggle. I wondered how long 15 minutes felt like when you were fighting for your life against strangulation, but was determined to not fight it and just let go. The group I was to be executed with had been at least 7 people, but when I got to the top of the platform, only 3 including me were left. And those two received last minute pardons. I was standing there all by myself. They refused to cover my head, so my eyes were wide open and my hands were tied behind my back. My best friend was in the crowd – she had been standing with me, and refused to leave, just so I could have someone there who cared about me so I wouldn’t be alone. The rope was attached to the crossbeam….and I woke up just as the bottom of the trapdoor was kicked away and I was falling. I woke up screaming, clawing at my neck and crying. I genuinely thought I was going to die. I used to be able to practice lucid dreaming – a skill I learned growing up because of severe anxiety and night-terrors so bad I’d be violently sick the next day. I’ve dreamed of being executed before, but never by hanging. I remember one reoccurring dream I had that I was going to be burned at the stake, and I remember waking up with the smell of smoke as the fire was lit, but it never touched me. Even now, many hours later I still feel like there’s something around my neck, and I don’t like it. I don’t like having things around my neck as a general rule anyway, especially not tight things – I have a horrible fear of suffocating. I attribute that to a childhood trauma when I was grabbed around the neck once and pushed against the wall. But yeah. Not good. Not good at all. I could not tell that I was dreaming, and I didn’t think I was. I thought it was real. When I woke up, there was no way I was going back to sleep….so I’ve been up since 3:30-ish and sat outside on the balcony watching the night, then the sunrise. It was peaceful out there. Honestly, thinking about it right now still makes me shaky. And I’m swallowing a lot more today than I normally would. Afraid something is going to cut off my air supply or something.

But there’s something beautiful about sitting outside alone at that time of morning. Even though the movements of the earth are imperceptible, I could track the stars, and I literally watched them move across the sky (and yes, I know it was me moving, not them). I think I saw a shooting star, which could have been an airplane or a satellite, but I made a wish anyway. I wrote a lot, or tried to. Tried to read, but I couldn’t really focus on it. But being indoors felt suffocating to me, and I didn’t want to be there alone. I wanted outside fresh air. So I sat there with my feet propped up and leaving my eyes open. I swear, if I could have I would have put toothpicks on my eyelids to keep myself from blinking, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to have my eyes closed. But the funny thing? When I went back inside to go to the bathroom sometime around six and finally looked in the mirror? I had a safey pin (closed, thankfully) stuck to my forehead and I hadn’t even felt it there, and that made me laugh a little bit. And I had spike and D to comfort me when I told them about it later. I’m trying not to think about tonight right now, and getting back in bed. I might take, in a very rare occurrence, one of my pills or anxiety attacks when I’m getting ready for bed because they calm me down. And I will think of pleasant things and hold onto my totem for dear life in one hand, and I have my dragon unicorn to keep me company. The truth is, I’m kind of scared to go to sleep again. But I’ll deal. What choice do I have, really? When I get home, I will exercise and meditate and do everything I can think of to try to get my head into a safe place before falling asleep (or trying to). That’s all I can do, really. I don’t want to go back to reoccurring night terrors again. Really don’t. It’s not in my plan. I’m thinking that re-studying and re-learning lucid dreaming is going to be a wonderful and necessary thing for me to do. Yep.

Today is kind of rough. I feel anxious, paniced and frightened. It’s been a long time, but I kind of feel like I’m on the edge of a panic attack all the time. I have my medicine with me just in case it gets bad, but I’m just breathing deeply and trying to maintain my focus – and reminding myself it was only a dream, and I’m okay. I’ll manage. The really sucky thing about all this is that home felt so wonderful over the weekend. She was there, and it felt normal for her to be there. Then I took her back home last night, and it still felt like home, only with an empty place where she was supposed to be. Like she belonged there, now. And now? In the glow of all that, I’m scared of my bedroom. Seriously. I know I can’t avoid it forever. I don’t want to go home, really but I have to. I can’t avoid it forever. I think its time (although seasonally a bit early) for some re-grounding and protection stuff. Some kind of purification of lingering bad dream mojo. Something. I do NOT want that to be repeated. I have my work cut out for me, which is full of win because I am also currently beyond exhausted but absolutely do not want to go to sleep. At all.