The Scotto Grotto (org)

Taking a time-out from folding laundry.

I had wicked dreams last night. terrible ones.

I don’t really remember them very well… but it was borderline on a night terror. I woke up in the middle of it last night, choking and coughing because the CPAP stopped sending me air properly as I slept (the nose filled with cold yuck, barring any air passage) so I woke up, gasping like a fish on land. One good inhale led to a huge coughing fit. I know my body was covered in sweat, my heart rate was high, and my mind had that sort of “lizard-brain” panic that only pops up when you fear for your life. The closest thing I would guess at would be like an anxiety attack, but I don’t know if the severity was the same.

What I do recall is that for some reason, I was all alone again, back where I was maybe a decade ago, only it was current day. No sweetheart, no Newton, nobody that I could really call a friend. It was a miserable existence back then, but something in the dream made it horrific. Probably because I’ve become so attached to the people I care about. I don’t know if being alone was a result of something I’d done, or just the way the world worked…. I know the dream was prematurely stopped. It’s just as well. I don’t like to dwell on losing loved ones.

The feeling of panic and sadness hit me hard, and it took a span of lighting some champa, stroking Newt, and about 20 minutes of calming down to really recover.

I blame being sick. I’ve not had a spook like this in quite a long while… I hope not to have one again anytime soon, if at all.