Night Terrors

I don't remember being afraid of the dark as a child, but I can imagine believing there were monsters in the closet. Certainly, I had a deep and abiding faith in the cucuy. Children have a profound need to fear or to imagine that there are beings that should be feared. It is a strange mixture of dread and excitement. I saw it in the mijo's eyes when he asked me in a whisper, "what's that?" and then answered his own question, breathlessly, "monsters." A twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips, monsters and cucuys of any variety are a secret joy.



Night terrors as an adult, however, are no joy, secret or otherwise.

First, it was the insomnia and the sounds that screamed for me to imagine someone breaking into my car. I rationalized that it was a result of the crimemapping. In my house hunting frenzy, I discovered the Sacramento PD's tool that allows you to see the crime statistics by neighborhood. Delightfully colored stars mark the spots of the crimes reported to the police; against the lavender background, it is hard to distinguish between the aggravated assault and vandalism. But there it all is, ready for your sleep deprived mind to run away and make up stories.

So, for days on end, I bolt up in bed everytime I hear the least sound, imagining it is the car-window breaking marauders, come to hurt my cute little car, nameless all these years. The first time it was when I had left my car on the street rather than in the driveway. It made sense, in its own way; but there was just no explanation for the terror on the nights when the car was tucked carefully into the driveway. In the warm light of morning, sun or not, it is easy to remember that no one down here has had their window smashed in. The street is just too busy. And if you look carefully at my car in the driveway, you realize the intense work it would take to get the angle and then get into the car without making a ton of noise. Yet the sleepless nights brought endless sounds that made me believe there was danger just out my window.

Even after Jake, I never felt unsafe in my neighborhood. Occasionally, I felt angry that I had to take precautions and worry about people like Jake, but I never felt FEAR. I never thought, this is a dangerous place for a person like me. Somehow, searching for a house in an unknown city had me terrorized.

Maybe it was more than the house hunt and the unknown.

Eventually, I started sleeping again, only for the nightmares to begin. Generally speaking, my nightmares involve my family -- and someone being mean to me and the rest of my family not coming to my aid. Sometimes, the nightmares involve quests that I can't seem to complete. I hate my own incompetence and wake feeling exhausted and defeated. I can remember one bad dream in which I was being chased and my mom was there and unwilling to help me, but that was the only dream in which I felt truly unsafe.

Until this past week.

The new nightmares are all about tight situations in which I am being chased, pursued or otherwise threatened, and I am also in a vulnerable state: partially clothed, behind walls of pure glass, no where to hide. Even more menacing, no conventional attempts to make myself safe work. I dial 9-1-1, if I am able to do that, and the police don't show up. I am unable to remember the number to the person I should call. When the police show up, they arrest me instead of the person who was threatening me. Up is down and left is right, and I am out of the loop on these changes.

I thought stepping back from all the decisions that have been making me feel overwhelmed would help me to regain equilibrium and allow me to feel safe again. Instead, it just caused old fears or new ones to emerge and take over.

Sleep, restful, peaceful sleep, where are you?