If you’ve been reading my blog, following me on twitter, or have ever spent 5 minutes in person, then you know that “powerfully insane” is an excellent phrase often used to describe me. Normally it’s because of my eccentric and, well, not quite sane, behavior. I usually shrug it off with a joke. I laugh about it, which makes the people around me think I’m even more insane. That might be true. I laugh because I can’t afford to worry about being crazy. Worry is what really drives home that nail in the coffin. It’s what sends me over the edge.
Last Night There Was a Storm
If you live in the Midwest, chances are you’re aware that last night we pretty much got hammered repeatedly by the fist of god in the form of a large, powerful thunderstorm. In places it even sat upon the Earth with Tornadoes. The wind smashed across the plains in great, powerful 60 mile per hour bursts, and the lightning smashed into generators, powerlines, and people. That last one I’m probably guessing on.
The point is, it was a nasty, nasty storm. The kind that has my cowardly dog shivering and shaking with fear all night. I threw a blanket over her head and she lay still with just her nose poking out… so she could breath, presumably. Dog’s may be smarter than most people give them credit for, but they’re still pretty stupid. She likes the blanket though. It comforts her like she’s found a particularly close fitting hole in the ground to hide from the storm in. It kept her from whining anyway, at least as long as I was keeping her company.
After the physical storm passed, I was finally able to get to sleep. It was some time after midnight, I know that. Probably close to 1 AM, which normally wouldn’t be a problem. Normally that would give me plenty of sleep.
I didn’t know the Real Storm was Coming.
It’s Been A Long Time Since Nightmares
I don’t really remember how log it’s been since I had horrible nightmares. I mean, sure, I used to have them all the time. It was part of my life back then, but eventually they just stopped. Either that, or I got used to them in a way that made them not stick out in my mind anymore. It’s been a long time since I even awoke remembering that I’d had one. It’s been even longer since I was awakened by one.
Yet, there I was at 3:00 AM. Standing at the foot of my bed shaking it off. I’m fairly certain moments before I had been shouting. So far, no one here has said anything to me about it though. I pushed the pillows back to the top of the bed. I had rolled into a ball around them, wrapped in my blankets and turned sideways in the night. I vaguely remember tossing back and forth and shouting at someone.
Not in fear, I don’t think.
Not all nightmares are about fear, you see. That’s just the weakest tip of the iceburg. Real nightmares are the ones that pick at the scabs of your sanity. Real nightmares are the ones that take you to that horrible dark place. They pull forth memories and concepts that can’t even be remotely called fear because they are too oppressive and painful for that word to really apply. The things that only come to the forefront of consciousness when you’re laying in a pool of your own vomit after a particularly powerful drinking binge.
That was the type of thought running through my head last night.
Then, I just woke up, rearranged the bed, and went back to sleep.
That was all there was too it.
They didn’t come back.
At least, not yet.
I think it was one last attempt at February to strike out at me.
I hope it was a last attempt.