I’ve been terrible about posting lately. Perhaps if I give you a short glimpse into my life, you might understand:
In a desperate attempt to help Brett complete all of the back work that he missed on all of those days that he was absent, I have been working like a fiend, collecting data, typing up poem circles from his drafts, ya da ya da ya da.
Ask me a question about Khrushchev. I’ll bet that I can answer it. That is unless I immediately socked all of that stuff away in the recycle bin of my brain.
His Khrushchev presentation (in character) is on Wednesday, and he is sweating it big time. Once we get past that major hurdle, he has his English final next Wednesday, for which he will have to dissect a poem from one of the 15 poems that he has been working on in the poem circles. No advanced warning on the poem.
Can I just tell you how nervous public speaking makes him? He really needs things to be added to his anxiety right now.
The good news is that school is almost out. Eamonn’s graduation is June 15 (still haven’t gotten his invitation order in the mail, nothing last minute there). My niece is also graduating. So much going on.
“Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful” ~ Old Pantene commercial featuring the very beautiful Kelly LeBrock (and of course, women hated her)
I’m going to take my coffee and go outside for a bit and soak up some sun in an attempt to restore my vitamin deficiency. Then I’m going to come inside and reread Macbeth, so that we can get to work on his Socratic method analysis of the play. My life, so full. I know that you’re jealous.
Speaking of jealousy, last night I dreamed that I was a secret agent trying to foil a plot to kill the Queen of England. After I successfully completed that mission, I got back on the boat (which boat? I don’t know. It’s a dream) and my cabin mate was . . . James Bond (as played by the younger Pierce Brosnan). Always was a sucker for an Irish accent.
That’s all for now. Just wanted to let everyone know that yes, I am still alive, and no, I’m not posting regularly at the moment, but hope to be soon. Also, a big welcome to my new readers that have clicked over from Goodreads. Thanks so much for loving me for the book nerd that I am.
I’ll leave you with this. I know that it’s bleepin old, but it just cracks me up every time that I see it—still.
Nightmare: Vivid, distressing dream that lasts until I wake up or my head explodes . . .
” . . . it is sitting on your chest torturing you, giving you nightmares.” ~ Bhagwan Shree Raineesh
I awoke again this morning from another nightmare. This state of affairs is becoming increasingly intolerable, especially since this time my awakening was accompanied by a migraine that felt as if someone was trying to rip out my right eyeball.
The fact that I am even writing about ripping out eyeballs should be indicative of my state of distress: I hate anything to do with eyeballs. I refuse to watch any part of a movie that has any kind of object within range of the eyes. I don’t even think that I could get laser surgery on my eyes because I am so timid about eyeballs. It’s amazing that I can wear contacts.
But that is exactly what this pain felt like. I was whimpering so much that the dogs became distressed, and Shakes crawled up my chest, with all of his Polar Bear bulk, and began to lick my chin. Tillie started whining, and Alfie jumped off the bed.
Need I say that this was not a pretty sight?
“I couldn’t awake from the nightmare/That sucked me in and pulled me under/ Pulled me under.” ~ Jeff Buckley
In this particular nightmare, I was working for the realty firm again, the one for which I was marketing director. Almost all of my nightmares or anxiety dreams involve something about work or going to work or leaving work. (Could be that I still have unresolved feelings about being on disability, especially since I’ve worked almost my whole life?)
So in this nightmare, I was at some boring realtors’ dinner, and I needed to leave in time to pick up my daughter. Now this scenario does not seem to be the standard material for a nightmare. Seems pretty lame, in fact.
I won’t go into all of the details because they continue in the same vein. Nevertheless, turn into a nightmare it did, along with the accompanying feelings of helplessness, distress, and heightened senses. This particular nightmare would be classified as a perceived assault on my self-esteem as opposed to an assault on my person. Okay, whatever.
I just know that when I awoke, my heart was pounding, and I was breathing in short, shallow gasps. The bonus was the throbbing, pulsating pain in my head and the rotating spots in my eyes.
But the most awful part is that after I woke up and Corey shoved an axert down my throat, the nightmare continued once I was able to go back to sleep. Tell me this isn’t weird.
“Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?” ~ John Lennon
I did a little reading on nightmares, and apparently, they are most common in children, but adults do have them. The causes range from stress, real-life trauma, fevers, anxiety, bereavement, heredity, and reactions to medicine.
Since this onset of nightmares began when I changed medicine, I think that I can deduce the cause of these nightly forays into fright land. But I also think that the more that I have them, the more that they are going to occur—sort of like a self-fulfilling prophecy. They are breeding and multiplying in my subconscious like some amoeba on Viagra.
I want to send a cease and desist signal to my cerebral cortex: Stop with the creative nocturnal psychosis, please. I don’t mind if my cerebral cortex goes into overdrive when I want to be creative, but this is too much.
“This has got to be a nightmare . . . I haven’t woken up yet.” ~ Curtis Sliwa
There is actually something called “Nightmare Disorder” (of course there is). The criteria are the following:
Repeatedly wakes up with detailed recollection of long, frightening dreams centering around threats to survival, security or self-esteem, usually occurring in the second half of sleep or nap period.
Becomes oriented and alert instantly upon awakening.
Results in distress or impairment of occupational, social or other important areas of functioning.
Symptoms are not caused by general medical condition or by use of medications or other substances.
I have the first three, but am not sure about number four. According to the Psychology Today Diagnosis Dictionary, a tendency towards nightmares can be inherited (http://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/nightmare.html). I remember when I was a child, my father used to have these screaming nightmares. He would thrash about and wake up wild-eyed. Unfortunately, sleep apnea can also be a cause for nightmares, and my father, being a Filipino, had a predisposition to sleep apnea.
Sleep apnea is a very common occurrence in Filipino males; very often they stop breathing, and then gasp and begin breathing again. My father used to do this, and it was scary as hell to see when it happened. A few times, my mother would pound him on the chest to make sure he started breathing again. But being a stubborn man, he never saw a physician for his condition.
The syndrome actually has a name: Sudden unexplained nocturnal death syndrome, and it occurs predominantly in Southeast Asian males. Filipinos call it bangungut, which is Tagalog for “to arise and moan,” the word for nightmare.
Another symptom of sleep apnea is loud snoring. My father’s snoring was incredible. Sometimes I would lie in my bed at night and just listen. The snoring wasn’t just an inhale/exhale normal kind of snoring. It had tonal variations, and one inhalation seemed to go on forever. Apparently, well not apparently but decidedly, I too have an incredible ability to snore. It wasn’t always like this, but in recent years, I have begun to wake myself up with my snoring. The only being in the house who snores louder than I is Tillie (this according to Corey who must sleep next to my noisy self—now that’s love).
“Dreams are often most profound when they seem most crazy.” ~ Sigmund Freud
The number of theories about dreams abound. Freud believed that our dreams were a reflection of our unconscious desires. I don’t agree with that one. Some researchers say that dreams are the cortex’s way of finding meaning from random signals that are sent out during REM sleep and then creating a story from these signals. Others say that dreams are the mind’s way of sifting through the detritus of everyday life and getting rid of the things that we don’t want to warehouse in long-term storage.
Personally, I believe the third explanation more than the other two. When I try to interpret my normal dreams, often the randomness has a pattern formed from insignificant events that occurred during the day or the previous day. For example if I dream about my mother driving a bus, I may have had a telephone conversation with my mother about nothing, and a bus may have nearly sideswiped me on my way to the store.
“Everything in a dream is more deep and strong and sharp and real than is ever its pale imitation in the unreal life . . .” ~ Mark Twain
But one thing is certain about my dreams and nightmares: I can recall most of them vividly upon waking, which can be very disturbing if the dream was particularly unsettling. The feelings aroused by the dream/nightmare carry over into my day, coloring my mood and attitude. For example, haven’t you ever dreamed that you had an argument with someone, and then when you awoke, you actually felt mad at that person?
So you can imagine my state of mind when I have a nightmare: I am mad at the world or whatever part of it inhabited my mind during REM. Luckily for the other members of the family, my nightmares rarely involve them in a negative light.
I told Corey this morning that I thought that one of the reasons I had a migraine was that I must have been clenching my jaw during my nightmare. My jaw has hurt all day, just like it did when I had TMJ and used to clench my way into a migraine either from anxiety or anger. Luckily, I managed to teach myself not to clench, especially after two jaw surgeries, and I have no desire to reacquire that painful habit . . .
“Those with the greatest awareness have the greatest nightmares.” ~ Mahatma Ghandi
I don’t know that I necessarily have more awareness than most people, but I definitely have more nightmares than anyone I know. Maybe I have nightmares because I can’t deal with reality. Who knows?
But one thing is certain: If these nightmares, vivid dreams, whatever, don’t lessen, I may never be able to look forward again to a good night’s sleep as I once did.
“To sleep, perchance to dream” has taken on a whole new meaning, and that connotation is not particularly welcoming.