Cycling

The dreams again last night….the ones I hate the most, came back.  They seem to come in clusters and there is not necessarily any link to stress in my life of any consistent sort.  It’s not weather related or anything I’ve eaten…it has nothing to do with how much or little sleep I’ve had….I can’t find any particular reason for my brain to act this way other than the normal crazy that dwells within.

I dream constantly, as you guys know, and the dreams are almost always intense, emotionally charged and very graphic in nature, regardless of the topic.  I remember my dreams like I live a double life; one awake, one asleep, and although I rarely get confused between the two types of memories, many things seem to overlap in ways that don’t necessarily make sense.  These particular dreams, however, are a bit different from the norm, in that they tend to repeat over and over and will span more than a single night or rest period.

One of the last ones I had of this nature was about a movie.  I had gone over to a neighbour’s place to see a movie with some friends but when I realized what movie it was, I tried to back out of it.  I had seen the movie before and knew that once you started watching it something out of your control was put into motion that would not stop until the cycle was completed.  The ‘thing’ put into motion was scary as hell…something intangible and vicious, often resulting in great pain and/or death of the viewer.  It was terrifying.  Each time the cycle started I would fight my way through and would then try hard to escape, to not start watching again or even hear the movie playing.  It would happen though, somehow, every time.  I’d hum a line from a song in the movie and then that sickening feeling of dread in my stomach, knowing I’d have to fight through it all over again.

Another dream from another time, it was a book.  I was given a series of them as a gift and once I began to read the first one I realized, too late, it was going to trap me inside another cycle.  I put the book down in a drawer, closed it, and tried to find Dayne.  I saw him outside through the front door window doing something with the car…washing it, maybe.  I opened the front door and tried to go outside but something invisible was holding me back and sucking my voice into a tiny squeak that no one would ever be able to hear.  I pushed against the invisible force with the weight of my entire body, head first, body tilted like I was walking into a strong wind.  I tried to push against it with my hands but the force pushing back felt like it was tearing my skin….it was not a boundary I could cross.  I moved to the open living room window and yelled as loud as I could to Dayne but the sound bounced right back to me with a faint reverb that made it sound like someone else’s voice.  It scared me and I stopped yelling, sighed and went back to sit down.  I decided to try to finish the book to break out of the cycle, or try to anyway.  I remember feeling like my skin was coated in a layer of toxic, burning chemical glue and I kept trying to peel it off but it would take my flesh with it each time I tried.

Last night it wasn’t a play, movie or book, just a sequence of events that kept getting set into motion and the resolution was difficult and so painful…it felt like my insides were being torn apart and my heart…the heaviness inside was almost more than I could stand.  I was at a very old building…reminiscent of the ancient hospital building I used to work at (which has since been torn down and low-income high-rise complexes have been erected in its place).  I was on the grounds, looking for a way in when something happened…a button was pushed, a lever dropped, a song began to hum.  I knew, immediately, what was going on and I tried to run but suddenly the air was as thick as mud and moving required such immense concentration and effort, two or three steps in, my body was exhausted.  I fell to the ground and began to crawl along the lawn, fingers digging into the dirt and dragging my body inch by inch towards the brick and stone walls of the old building.  I got to the stairs near the entrance and pushed myself up onto the first one but the air felt so thin up there I found myself gasping for breath.  One more step up and the struggle to breathe continued to worsen until I noticed my fingernails go blue, fingers snow-white with vivid blue veins snaking everywhere, as if I could suddenly see through my skin.  I watched the blood flow through them with each slowing beat of my heart.  Realizing the danger I was in, I rolled back down the stairs to the ground and gulped in huge swallows of air, rubbing my hands together to get the blood back into them.  I eventually made it out, or through….or whatever ended the cycle that time, and woke, rolled over, yawned and fell asleep within moments again.

I “woke” into my dream more or less back at the beginning again…standing outside the old hospital building.  There was someone walking down the street towards me…someone I didn’t recognize, and they were gesturing at me to wait for them.  I sat on the grass, trying hard to stay very still and not think of the ‘thing’ that would trigger the next cycle to start, careful not to make any sounds or pay too much attention to the things around me.  The stranger approached and, without looking at me, walked just past and stopped.  He turned his head toward the building and hummed a line or two of music which made me leap to my feet….it was part of the ritual…part of the summoning of the start of the cycle.  It was too late by the time I reacted though, and I felt the shift of energy around me.  The cycle had begun and I was fucked.  I groaned and sank back to the ground, awaiting the next painful, frightening sequence of events to begin.

I remember at least six different outcomes all starting from this point in dreams last night.   I have them circling in my head and although I’m trying to keep them quiet, they won’t shut up.  I am so busy at work this week I don’t have time for this crap….

And, aside from that (and two 16 hour naps this weekend) all I did was clean, pack and glare through the windows at my crappy landlord who won’t shut up about how the carpets better be in “perfect” shape when we move.  I am so sore after all the work I did this weekend, packing and cleaning the place.  I feel like I barely slept at all, but then, that’s likely the dreams that have me feeling this way more than the increased activity.  Can feel my lids sliding closed already and it’s not even 11 am yet.  Long day to go with too much in it to possibly complete.  *yawns*  Best get focused on something so I don’t pass out at my desk.

(Aww crap I forgot about the meeting I have to have with Colt’s school this week.  That’s going to eat up my time too.  Gah.  Life.  I need three of me to get all this done! I wish dream me could get some of this stuff done while I’m awake the way I get her stuff done while I’m asleep!)

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About Grainne

My name is Grainne. This blog has been with me for years now and has served as a journal, a confessional, an outlet and a place for me to create and express my love of life. Thank you for stopping by and for becoming a part of this life long journey of mine. I appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to do so. :)

5 responses to “Cycling”

  1. Alaina says :

    So sorry you are going through this. I had vividly terrifying dreams when I was on a beta blocker for a heart arrhythmia. Sometimes the dreams seemed so real when I woke up that I almost believed they had actually happened.

  2. Birdie says :

    Could this be brought on by adrenal fatigue?

    • Grainne says :

      Could be. I’ve dreamed like this all my life. They used to manifest as PTSD flashbacks so I’ve always assumed its that. Going for new sleep studies in December this year though.

      I was reading about adrenal fatigue after reading it on your blog. Interesting stuff and it totally applies to me as well. Xx

  3. A Journey With You says :

    I hope you pass through this quickly. Wishing you well.

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