Tuesday, Tuesday, no good to me...

Someone recently suggested that perhaps I would feel better if I kept a journal. OK, why not. I have a blog, and no one reads it, so why not?

First topic: Nightmares/Night Terrors/Bad Dreams... Been having alot of them lately, and they are making it very hard to sleep. I won't go into sleep deprivation, it's the internet, look it up if you care.

WARNING!!! The following is a graphic description of my most disturbing, and most common dream. If you are squeamish, do not read it. Yes, I'm serious.

I find myself with my left hand wrapped around a persons throat. I have big hands, and they are capable of immobilizing many people by gripping the throat. While standing over them, I am repeatedly punching them in the face. I seem to be summoning strength I don't normally have, as not only can they not escape my left hand grip, every blow to the face causes significant trauma. Not a black eye, not a broken teeth, but I can feel and hear facial bones shattering. Each blow not only causes trauma to the persons face, but I can also feel my own fingers crack and break. each blow brings more pain, and more trauma until the person I am hitting no longer looks like a person. The bone shards beneath have shredded the skin, and the skull has collapsed to the point I am now punching the relatively soft brain tissue beneath the shards. My left hand retains a iron grip on the throat, but there is no struggle anymore, and my right hand is a lump of shattered metacarpal bones and connective tissue. It somehow retains a fist-like shape, and keeps landing blows. Blows that are orders of magnitude more powerful that I can deliver, but the damage doesn't lie. A few more punches, and the body goes limp. The computer has shut down, and I am hitting what amounts to a flesh punch bowl filled with blood, brains, and bone shards, yet I still don't stop. I slowly become aware of screaming, but the person no longer has a face, let alone a mouth to scream out of. The I realize the screaming is me.

I usually wake up at that point.

If there is anyone left reading, I feel compelled to mention that this scene is no more gruesome than some of the more extreme gore/horror films I have seen, but it's not the visual that is the most bothersome. Since this is a dream, my awareness seems to be greatly heightened. I can feel every bone in my hand break. I can feel every snap of the facial bones. I can feel the twitch of the body beneath me as the life is ripped from it. I smell the blood...I TASTE the blood. When I wake up, my right hand is tense and sore. And I sit on the side of my bed, and slowly come back to reality. Slowly. While in the shower, I check my hands for blood, and injury. There isn't any, thankfully, but I feel compelled to check. Some mornings, I'm halfway to work before I begin to feel normal, and it's lunch time before I have settled into my day.

Then comes the inevitable. Darkness falls, and it's time to go back to bed.

I don't want to do this anymore. More when I am ready.