To Dream of Black

Blind

15th April 1985

I get nightmares... it seems like such a stupid thing to say out loud but please... hear me out. Where some may dream of falling, running, being chased, my nightmares are different. To tell the truth I don't remember them, and they don't always happen... but when they do, I wake up with tears in my eyes... and an inexplicable, overwhelming sense of dread. My hands shake... my legs feel weak... and I'm just scared stiff. The sensation lasts for hours and sometimes takes days to recover, I often find myself looking over my back for no clear reason and I refuse to enter poorly lit rooms. As you can imagine... I've lost sleep over this. When day turns to night, I dread the coming of sleep.

It's a frustrating ordeal; it's impacted my day to day living and personal relations. I get paranoid and suspicious easily; I snap at the slightest hinderance and always feel on edge. It's driven everyone I cared about away from me... not that I blame them; if I were them, I'm sure I'd do the same.

But I can tolerate the loneliness and isolation. What frustrates me most, however, is the not knowing... having no clue as to what's causing my misery. It's... vexing. This dream... what is this dream? What dark shadows stalk the black abyss of my slumber?

I'm scared... uncertain... Do I even want to know? Give in to frustration or live in fear?

One thing is clear though, I don't know how long I can live like this...

***

18th April 1985

It rained today... not the most remarkable thing but... it's something to write down in the journal I suppose. Something about it bothered me though ... it seemed... peculiar. I can't explain why but... it felt strange to watch the droplets tap against the glass of my apartment window... it felt... familiar, and that's what disturbs me. Why do I remember this?

The question still runs through my mind almost every waking hour of the day... the dream... the dream, what is in the dream? It feels like I'm going insane; I wonder if I am... worse still, perhaps I already have. Such a thing shouldn't bother a man to the end of his wits; the contents of a dream have no bearing over the happenings of the real world. Even the mere notion of it seems ridiculous... and yet here I stand... staring out from my personal melancholic hell to the normal world beyond the glass.

I wonder about that... surely this isn't a normal human experience. Was it something I did? Something I said? Divine punishment perhaps? No, I should think not. Gods do not punish men on the will of slightest whim; should they exist, their actions are more purposeful. And I know for a fact that there are worse men than me who have received a judgment less so crueler than my predicament. Maybe this is something all people experience? All men dream, all men have nightmares, who am I to say that I am any different?

***

7th May 1985

I have had some time to think... about everything. Say I try to ignore the dream; struggle each day to achieve some semblance of normality. There is every chance that my mind will grow accustom to the new mode of operation, and simply just filter out the nightmares. But should I fail to filter or forget the dream, it will haunt me all my days and I will live a life always fearful, always looking over my shoulder. And that to me sound like its own kind of hell.

So instead, let us say I seek out this dream. A dream has no hold over the happenings of life, reality will be my haven; and from the safety of this haven I may venture forth into the dream and perhaps uncover its nature or cause. From there I can seek counseling and take better steps to end the dream.

Of course, there is a slim chance that the nightmare is uncurable, a worrisome outcome. But so long as I have the haven of reality, I will be okay. A dream can't harm me.

... yes, I think I will pursue the latter action.

***

Not wishing to attempt this exploration blindly, I scoured the libraries for any relevant information. Books, novels, news articles and even academic papers; no source too obscure, no theory too outlandish.

I began my search for answers with the study of medicine and her sister field psychology. As I understand, my condition is a parasomnic disorder, specifically that of "night terrors" ... or at least some derivation of it. Most common from ages 3-7 and characterized by anxiety, panic, fear, and other hysterias, night terrors are acute episodes of intense and unending nightmares. Though perturbing to witness, however, night terrors are mostly considered harmless and inconsequential; this is because the afflicted generally do not remember the contents of the nightmare, with the condition resolving itself as they mature into the adolescence.

The symptoms match superficially... but something feels wrong. I can't put my finger on it right now, perhaps I'm just tired. Anyways, this is the best chance I have, it wouldn't hurt to try the treatments.

***

A week has passed since I started taking the medications. I still get episodes of paranoia, but everything seems fine. I'm beginning to feel better each day... less tired at least. Perhaps I was just overreacting; why was I even so worried about in the first place?

On a different note, I met this nice lady the other day. Joyce... Joyce was her name; I was at the library reading and she sat across the table from me. The conversation was immemorable but it was nice... for the first time in ... perhaps forever, I felt normal.