First Circle

March 01, 1:15AM 

Hey you, it’s been a while since we sat down and thought about stuff, although one would argue I think too much. Oh well. 

So I’ve been having this recurring nightmare. Its been about a month now since I’ve had it and our sleep schedule has gone completely bonkers. I remember the days when I was little and got tired around nine or ten P.M. I swore I couldn’t go on any more. I remember my parents carrying me to bed. Now, I’m up to three, four, sometimes even five in the morning because I can’t go back to sleep, in fear of seeing it again. Also because Adventure Time and Regular Show are some of the fuckin best TV shows to air in a long time. But I don't think that the weird shit in there is helping my dream state. 

Some friends told me to write out the nightmare and see if I can gain anything from it. They gave me all sorts of crazy theories, from smoking weed too much, which I don't even smoke THAT much, to its a ghost that's been unsettled and its come back to haunt me (very funny Caleb). So let’s bring out the demons onto paper. 

It starts the same every night. Wake up, start falling. 

Falling through what seems like so many alternate dimensions, like that scene from Doctor Strange but the dimensions are all about me. 

We’re falling through various levels of a building, each one containing some painful memory from the past few years. First breakup, first car crash, arguing parents, fear of demons, you name it. It’s like I’m falling through my very own custom made Nine Circles of Hell, with each version of me looking straight into my eyes as I fall. The only thing is, when I almost reach the bottom floor, I wake up. I have no idea what’s waiting for me at the First Circle. And I’m afraid if I go back to sleep I’ll find out. 

So what I’ve been doing in the meantime is binge-watching anime until I hear the birds chirp and eating snacks that are not exactly the most nutritious, and I mean yogurt’s healthy, so are Nature Valley bars, Yes, everyone’s been telling me it's not the healthiest way to deal with it and I know that. I think I’ve actually gained a few pounds in the past month, so there’s that that I’m also worried about. Not to mention that I’m actively trying to stay positive with the help of my friends, but depression keeps saying, “Happiness? Who is that? As if WE want to get to know that disgusting concept”. But dammit if it isn’t hard. 

It wasn’t always like this. It used to be just nightmares about the breakup, but that was to be understood since it had just happened. But then, more and more memories started to just randomly open up out of nowhere. Stuff I thought I had suppressed down for years, never to be seen again.  It had been so long I honestly forgot about them. But I guess some things are never really gone, are they? Stupid me right? 

March 12th, 3:01AM

This time, I’m up for a different reason. I went to a therapist for the first time to talk about my dreams. My friends were no help and I don’t talk to my parents much about anything nowadays, so I took the next logical step. I’m actually kinda proud of myself to be honest. Her name was Dr. Post. She was a fairly kind woman and I thank whatever god above that I found one that wasn’t condescending. 

Anyway, the more I explained it to her, the more I started to think. Was it that I never fully made peace with the past at all? Sure I had told myself that I had gotten over much of it, but had I? I didn’t even consider the fact March was the month when I met my ex for the first time. Maybe it’s my subconscious trying to avoid all of this madness going on in my brain. Maybe it’s trying to tell me to confront it head on instead of ignoring it. I don’t know, the most I can say now is that I did it, and I’m happy with my decision to see Dr. Post. However, I didn’t mention that I was afraid of the mystery of the First Circle. Maybe it’s not for me to find out. Post prescribed me with some sleeping pills so I could fall asleep faster. I guess they aren’t working right now. 

March 21, 2:26AM 

I’ve been up since 5:00AM yesterday. I’m so scared. I got back to my room and cried my eyes out. They’re still a little red as I’m writing this. It doesn’t make any sense. 

The nightmares were starting to disappear. I thought Post was supposed to help. So why did they decide to attack me all at once? All of my painful memories no longer separated by level, but all crashing down on me in one giant wave of depression, regret, and rage. I’ll definitely see Post about this. I don’t know who else to go to. 

March 22nd, 1:15AM 

I saw it. The First Circle. My First Circle. Will I be able to sleep again after this? It was every person that caused me pain just circling around me and in the center was my pathetic soul. There was a spotlight that shone down onto me and two red eyes accompanied by a harrowing toothy jagged grin. Then, I sank, all of these figures laughing, laughing, laughing laughing laughing. I believe I may have seen the devil for myself and what awaits me if nothing changes. This is no longer about me not getting sleep. I will NOT be resigned to this fate, whatever the hell it means. 

April 5th, 12:23AM 

The past two weeks  have been the hardest weeks of my life. 

I met with my ex and we talked everything out. It went so much better than I thought it would. He agreed to be friends with me and so far nothing too awkward has happened. I visited Post again to talk about my car crash, since I had never done so with anyone other than my parents at the time. She told me that I had PTSD from it, and that it doesn’t go away overnight, but it can be managed in healthy ways. What I’m doing now is apparently one of them. I confronted my parents and told them how I felt as their kid and at the end, they both said they were sorry and gave me hugs of support. I didn’t think they would ever understand, but they did. I’ve taken up meditation as well to focus my mind, as well as (surprisingly) visited church every now and then to talk to the clergy. I still don’t trust religion but the people that I talked to today were the opposite of what I expected. 

The nightmares still come, but they are less frequent now, with all of the changes I’ve made thus far. Now, I may finally be able to get some fucking sleep. And who knows, maybe I’ll keep up the writing. It’s kinda therapeutic.