Angel

I went to bed early last night (10pm). The continuing coverage of the tragedy, and the weight of the tragedy itself was really wearing me down. I popped in a video tape, but every time I paused it to vacuum or wwhatever, I got sucked back in to the network coverage, and more and more exhausted.

I went to bed early to escape all of it.

Tired and drained, I tossed for a bit, then came to rest on my back with my “knee-pillow” behind my neck. I dreamed I was in a different apartment someplace, someplace downtown still, or maybe it was a rowhouse, or some other home.

In this dream, I too had become tired and lay down to sleep while waiting on a friend to come home. I had left the door open to my home, and was distracted slightly by the possibliity that a drug dealer would “come after me” (I had just watched Aspen Extreme).

As I lay on the bed in my home, facing the doorway, I was roused from my sleep several times by the sensation that someone was in my room. I’d open my eyes, expecting either my friend, or some vile criminal, but only find the empty room.

Once, I even opened my real eyes, to verify some vile criminal hadn’t broke into my real home.

I went back to sleep each time.

In the dream world, I was sleeping, and dreaming, and the vision was of darkness. Dim color and form.

Then, one more time, I sensed the impression of someone in my room while I slept. This time though, they came near the bed. They stood at my shoulder and reached down and rocked my chest, as if to wake me. Lying in my dreamworld, trying to sleep, I slowly cocked a fist and started drawing it up my body, to pop this intruder once in the gut.

The rational part of the dream-me thought it would be wise to at least peek at who I was about to pop. I cracked my eye, and there was no one there, in my dream room.

Then, I felt the intruder slap my stomach, then reach up and pull-back an eyelid on the sleeping real-me. Then they grabbed both of my shoulders and giggled me vigorously for a few seconds.

I opened my real world eyes to find my room as empty as in the dream world. I also heard the ending resonance of a long snort of air from myself.

I hadn’t been breathing.

Sleep apnea struck again. I had eaten late, went to bed mentally exhausted, and had a large pillow propped behind my head. All these things contributed to block my airflow and I didn’t care.

An angel woke me, got me to take a breath, and take stock of my circumstance.

It was a odd experience, but it didn’t otherwise disturb me. I thought the playing with my eyelid was a very clever approach to waking me. I swapped the pillows out for their proper positions. I rolled onto my side. I went right back to sleep, and slept comfortably for the remainder of the night.

I am also beginning to equate the act of dreaming about sleeping, with the onset of death. Perhaps our “death bed” really begins with a place in our minds. Talk about a wake-up call….