The Haze
2
…now it seems stupid.
It doesn’t seem stupid. I’ve had dreams like that and been terrified to sleep for a week.
I’m rereading the conversation we had yesterday morning like it’s going to help.
I almost wish I had put more detail into that brief description of the nightmare that I put in the journal, because now I can only remember a few things about it and it’s making me feel worse by the minute. It’s more silly than scary now.
At the same time, I’m glad I didn’t say anything more about it because I don’t want the fear to come back, even though the terror I felt then was nothing compared to last night. I just want to find some kind of clue, something that will help me realize what brought this on so I can forget and move past it with most of my sanity intact.
I feel another panic attack coming on, so I sit back from the computer and curl up into a ball, being careful not to accidentally kick my laptop on the floor like last time. My eyes start tearing up as I sob a few weak times, but I’m not sad, just too afraid to do anything else. I don’t want to tell my other friend I had a horrifyingly realistic nightmare about beating her little sister to death and then forgetting I’d ever had anything to do with it. What if she thinks I want to do that and never speaks to me again?
Just relax, okay? You can’t control what you dream.
I hate this. Officially.
You said yourself you were terrified. Not like it was a personal attack on her. So just take a deep breath and relax.
I try. I really do try. I breathe as slowly and deeply as I can, but my pulse is still twice what it is normally, like I’ve just run a marathon. I can’t take a straight breath because my lungs keep shuddering, like I’m cold. Like when the Haze blew over me. I felt nothing but a slight chill, but it was more than enough. I knew what it was.
It wasn’t real. You know that and I know that and she knows that. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. It wasn’t real.
I like to think it wasn’t, but I’m not entirely sure yet. I’ll have to wait until tonight, and at this point, I’m perfectly fine waiting a long time.
It doesn’t seem stupid. I’ve had dreams like that and been terrified to sleep for a week.
I’m rereading the conversation we had yesterday morning like it’s going to help.
I almost wish I had put more detail into that brief description of the nightmare that I put in the journal, because now I can only remember a few things about it and it’s making me feel worse by the minute. It’s more silly than scary now.
At the same time, I’m glad I didn’t say anything more about it because I don’t want the fear to come back, even though the terror I felt then was nothing compared to last night. I just want to find some kind of clue, something that will help me realize what brought this on so I can forget and move past it with most of my sanity intact.
I feel another panic attack coming on, so I sit back from the computer and curl up into a ball, being careful not to accidentally kick my laptop on the floor like last time. My eyes start tearing up as I sob a few weak times, but I’m not sad, just too afraid to do anything else. I don’t want to tell my other friend I had a horrifyingly realistic nightmare about beating her little sister to death and then forgetting I’d ever had anything to do with it. What if she thinks I want to do that and never speaks to me again?
Just relax, okay? You can’t control what you dream.
I hate this. Officially.
You said yourself you were terrified. Not like it was a personal attack on her. So just take a deep breath and relax.
I try. I really do try. I breathe as slowly and deeply as I can, but my pulse is still twice what it is normally, like I’ve just run a marathon. I can’t take a straight breath because my lungs keep shuddering, like I’m cold. Like when the Haze blew over me. I felt nothing but a slight chill, but it was more than enough. I knew what it was.
It wasn’t real. You know that and I know that and she knows that. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. It wasn’t real.
I like to think it wasn’t, but I’m not entirely sure yet. I’ll have to wait until tonight, and at this point, I’m perfectly fine waiting a long time.