Help For Those Who Want It. : Forum : Nightmares


Nightmares

8 Years Ago


I've been dealing with this problem for quite sometime now, so although I am not actually asking for advice herein, I am leaving this here because I hope that my words will help others. If this upsets anyone, I apologize and I'll take this down, if you ask me to. This is an excerpt from my diary.


I'm having nightmares again. Same crap over and over, so I try to avoid sleep for as long as I can, but my body always forces me to close my eyes even if I don't want to. I'm in the exam room and the doctors are surrounding me, I've got the sticker things all over my head. They attach some sort of toothy metal clamps to the stickers, specifically to the little metal rounded barbs poking out of the center of the stickers and there's a machine on a cart. It's hard to describe. I see myself screaming silently at the me on the gurney, to fight back, but all that me can do is flutter his eyes and drool. Then someone; a doctor, presses something on the machine and there's an electrical hum, then the screams echo throughout the room. I can't wake from the burning, throbbing, fiery pain arcing through my brain.

It hurts. 

Real bad.

The bed-me thrashes about, but he's tied to the gurney. He screams and screams and screams. No one stops the test. They say, "Just a little bit more. Almost done, sweetie. You're fine, it doesn't hurt!"

Yes!! It does!! It burns! 
I feel like I'm in an acid bath! 
Stop! 
God, please stop! 
Turn it off!
No more, no more, please! 
Please! Please! Stop!!!

No one ever does. They just press the button again and again and my screams echo in the still darkness of their perfect masked-over ears and the fire courses through me like liquid white-blue lightning on a water slide into the pits of heavenly hell. 

No one ever stops. 

I beg. I plead. I even threaten. 

I slip into the sweet grasp of oblivion, but the fiery hell-knight of electricity won't let me go; not yet, anyway. 

Poke, poke. 
Poke. Poke. 
Poke! Poke! 

More screams until my throat is aching raw and my stomach churns with bile.

No one believes me. 

"You were hallucinating!" 

"You're a Schizo, no one cares about it!" 

"It didn't ever happen!" 

But it did. 

It was real, as real as you are, there reading these pathetic words across your little glowing computer screen or the screens on your mobile phones and T.V.'s using a gaming console to connect to the Internet. 

It's real. I do not lie when I say that. 

This. Happened.

And, so I dream, locked to that bed and I scream long into the cold nights and I wait. I relive that moment in the hospital over and over and over. What I am waiting around for, I do not know.

Justice, maybe? No. Not that wanna-be champion of the broken, the downtrodden, the lost, or the the starving masses. If Justice cared at all, something would have been done long ago. Then what do I wait for as I lay curled in a ball, tears pooling on my aching flesh as their trails of hot steam slowly evaporate into the glittering rainbows of daylight?

Peace? Someone; anyone that will take a chance and believe me? A better sword and shield with which to fight off this smoky dragon? Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. All I know is that I just want to sleep.

So how do I deal; how do I cope when the very people that are supposed to protect the vulnerable, the downtrodden, the broken can't or won't because of the ways in which the laws are currently written? How to keep myself from slipping into the cool, sweet abyss of madness and decay?

Simple.

I write.

All the rage, the fear, the tears, the rainbows and glittery moments of happiness and the long, darkness of my bitterness towards a system that seems more designed to break people than to help them...all of that, and more, I twist and churn and hammer like some half-goofy blacksmith of yore building the first medieval suits of armor into my writing.

And when I am done crafting my piece, when I have finished rubbing in the last of the polish and my eyes are reddened from smoke and the fumes of the lacquer and my fingers ache from all the filigree details, to the world I shall present a gift. Within this gift, however widespread it becomes, one shall find salvation, protection, escape, sorrow, happiness, and much more. Within it, one shall find myself, and hopefully, themselves, as well.

This is how I cope with the nightmares.

I write.

Re: Nightmares

8 Years Ago


I thought you were describing Acute Trauma Craniotomy and I realized you were dreaming. It's a good thing that you found a way to cope with your nightmares. There some people with similar case as you but I forgot what is it called. It has something to do with vivid dreaming. Anyway if it gets worse you should seek medical help. 

Re: Nightmares

8 Years Ago


well...I've been through sleep paralysis for too long...part of what you wrote, remind me of those episodes i had. a few questions...do you have difficulty with breathing during, or after the nightmares? are you aware that you're dreaming? do you feel pressure on your body during or after the nightmares? cuz if so...you're most likely dealing with sp. and maybe some other sleep disorder. sad stuff is...all that modern medicine can offer, is next to nothing. im glad you can cope with it, thanks to writing... but here are some tips THAT !!!MAY!!! i say again, no guarantee, but it MAY just help. don't sleep on your back, eat something lite before sleep, instead of food full of fat and protein. try some fruit, or whatever else. try a little meditation before you sleep, or prayers if you like. just to calm yourself down. don't be afraid of talking to real, flesh 'n blood people about it. fear makes it worse. i know, you're thinking here's Mister smart a*s, thinking he knows it all... but just try. none of these involve any drugs, or anything that could harm you. so it's worth a shot. good luck.

Re: Nightmares

8 Years Ago


He mentioned someting about having schizophrenia and what he describe was on the spot. I would love to explain it in medical terms but I'm sure he's been told by his doctor alot. So its basically, his senses are all hightened and distorted causing him to feel like everything is a vivid dream. They can hear things that wasn't there. Its like being high on drugs, but in their case, for free. I was thinking that Schuzophrenia people are psyshic who have Psychometry or Precognition, making them hear things. But its just me, making things up. Anyway, avoid medication and try counselling instead.

Re: Nightmares

8 Years Ago


Hi folks! First, I wanted to say thank you for the advice and the kind words. I appreciated it very much. Secondly, (and I know this might sound a bit strange) does anyone know how I can set up Writer's cafe to notify me when I get replies to the things I post in the groups I am a member of? It took a while to reply to all of this because I was not aware that I had gotten a response from anyone. I didn't get any messages sent to my email or anything like that. So if someone could provide me with the direction in which to look so I can set that up, I'd be most grateful. Thanks again for all the kind words, guys. :D

Re: Nightmares

8 Years Ago


I think its in my account button, then options. You can change your notifications there.