Nightmares

I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have nightmares. They came hurtling out of nowhere and could be triggered by a single smell. A single noise. A single touch. As much as I tried meditating, yoga, running, any and all forms of exercise, I couldn’t get rid of my nightmares. I tried exhausting myself all day to try and reset my brain, but that didn’t work. I tried staying up all night so the dreams wouldn’t come, but becoming an insomniac didn’t work either. 

Most of the time I couldn’t remember what my nightmares were about, but when I woke up shaking, sweating and in tears, I knew my dreams couldn’t be sweet. The only nightmare I did remember was about the bogeyman. In most of my dreams, he jumped out of my closet just as I was getting into bed and I became so paralyzed, I couldn’t escape. I had to watch him parade around my room, then down the hallway where I couldn’t even imagine what he was doing. Every time I tried to tell my parents about my nightmares, they waved me off like I wasn’t panicking every time I wanted to sleep. I started to fill my sleeping hours with other activities such as reading and writing just to keep myself occupied and somewhat awake. It was during these hours I realized the bogeyman was real. That my worst nightmare was real. And that my parents weren’t actually my parents.