I used to dream in black and white.
I read that this is normal.
All of my dreams, at least the one’s I recall, are all dark and frankly scary. I have been woken up from bad dreams my entire life.
I rarely dream about my children, and when I do they are lost, and I am desperate to find them.
I never dream of my husband, not in person. I know he exists, but I never see him.
Last night I fell asleep on the couch, I had a sick little one and wanted to hear if there was any distress in the night.
I couldn’t sleep. Pain from my hip had me flipping channels until I just couldn’t stay awake any longer.
I woke and looked to my left to see a woman on the end of my couch with her head in her hands. All I could see was her hair, and that she was curled up in a ball. Rocking ever so slightly back and forth.
I looked up at her, and immediately I felt the air change. It was similar to being close to a lightning bolt, where you can smell the ozone, and the air feels thick.
She whimpered, “My head, it hurts so badly.” And she made fists in her hair.
I told her, “Oh God, I can feel it in the air.”
As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I felt it coming.
It was coming fast.
I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened. My immediate response wasn’t fear but anger.
This was a 2nd, 3rd, or 8th visit.
I had just forgotten the other one’s until that moment.
When the thick air surrounded me, I grabbed my head and put it in my hands, began to rock slowly.
I slowly mumbled, “Fuck you, Fuck YOU, FUCK YOU,” waiting on it to pass, to leave me. The mumble became a scream, and the fear was debilitating. But the anger was right at the very end of the fear.
Then I woke up.
In the exact same spot, head in hands. Where just moments ago in my dream I was being accosted by something or someone.
This dream was in color.
The next morning my son woke up, I took his temperature and he looked at me stone faced and said, “I had the weirdest dream.” I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to know he dreamed what I dreamed.
I was just as scared at that moment as I was when I woke up from that dream.
*This Actually friggin happened 2 nights ago. Still scares the ever loving SHIT out of me. Even to think about it.
I knew immediately I had to write about it. Because being scared and scaring others is what gets my blood pumping.
Taking a new turn,
Woman on Pause