April 2nd, 2020

My head really hurts, and I want to go to sleep. But I also don’t want to, if that makes sense. Last night, or 4 hours ago, I guess, I took an Advil for my head before I went to bed and prayed that it would work properly. Obviously, it didn’t, as I am now learning. It must have worked enough for me to fall asleep. But I woke up. Again. 

This time, I was in a wooden box. A coffin, now that I think of it. I lay quietly for a few seconds before I realized what was going on, and I tried to open the box. It was fastened tightly from the outside. Very soon, I began to panic and scream. I kicked the box and punched the box and cursed the box. I screamed louder than I ever had in my entire life. My breathing did not slow even for a second, and I could literally smell the sweat rolling off my skin. The strangest part was that I could not hear a single sound, apart from my own cacophony. 

I silenced for a minute, trying to figure out what I could do. But I didn’t notice that slowly, very slowly, bits of soil were trickling into the box, and it was getting more difficult for me to breathe. My chest felt heavy, and now the smell of my sweat mixed with the soil. I understood what was going on, and I screamed even louder. I tried to break open the box but it would not even crack. 

I was being buried alive. And I’m afraid that if I go back to sleep, this will happen again. 

April 4th, 2020

Earlier today, my therapist said that I was experiencing lucid dreams. Heightened senses, real feelings, etc. Isn’t lucid dreaming something you can control? Something you train yourself to do? I haven’t done any of that. And when you lucid dream, aren’t you supposed to be able to manipulate the dream? Change it to whatever you want? 

No, this shit isn’t lucid dreaming. I woke up 3 minutes ago and went straight for this journal. I’m supposed to write down everything I can remember about my dream. 

It was incredibly bright, I remember, like a really sunny day in the middle of July. I was standing at the top of a round, white tower, with gorgeous columns and a tall and open structure. I felt the wind blowing in my hair, and my skin had goosebumps from the freshness of it all. At that moment, I thought it was going to be a good dream. 

Then I heard a noise from behind me, a growl, like a lion’s. I turned back, but there was nothing there, just the green landscape. The growl got louder as if it was getting closer. Panic seized me and I sprinted to the stairs. I had to get out of the tower as fast as I could. I was running and running, my breathing rough and heavy. The growls continued, but they sounded further away, thankfully. I did not slow down, but perhaps now I had less chance of dying. 

No such luck. Just as soon as it quieted, the growls came back louder than ever. My legs were a blur as they drove me down the stairs. I had to be at least 12 floors down now. How tall was the tower? I leaned over the railing to see the bottom. It was close, so I kept running. I estimated about 5 more floors. The growls turned into a roar, and I swear I felt something brush my back. I rushed down those 5 floors, but I was still nowhere near the ground. I realized then that the stairs were neverending. I couldn’t just keep running forever; I was getting tired. My breath heaved with every step I took like a brick was slamming into my chest. I glanced behind me once more, and the growls ensued. I wanted to scream. There was no stopping, but I was just so tired. I peered over the railing, not sure what I was supposed to do now. 

I could jump. I didn’t know if that was going to work, but it might. A roar interrupted my thoughts, and the being swiped at my back. A severe stinging sensation appeared, and I could almost see the open gashes bleeding out onto my shirt. My eyes were starting to water from the pain. I had no choice. 

I jumped. 

April 7th, 2020

I fired my therapist today. She was useless, and her methods weren’t working for me. This is my third night trying to sleep without the horrible dreams, and I have had no success. Writing down my dreams isn’t making them any better, but I think it gives me an understanding of what’s going on inside my head in the middle of the night. 

The dreams are getting shorter. I don’t know what that means, other than the fact that I am getting a lot less sleep. 

Pitch black forest this time. The only light source was a burning fire in the middle of a clearing. I was completely alone, aside from a rat that scampered over my feet a couple of times. I sat next to the fire, trying to keep myself warm. There were many small noises around me, but none of them seemed very threatening. 

I must have sat there for hours, but the night never got any lighter. Over time, the fire started to die down. As soon as it completely went out, a hole opened up beneath my feet and I started to fall. It was a freefall, the wind whizzing around my ears as my arms flailed around next to me. I screamed, but it was useless. I was just going to continue to fall for a very long time. There was no bottom that I could see, but deep down, I knew there was one. And I was going to hit it. 


April 9th, 2020

Today, I saw a rat in my kitchen. It sat and stared at me with its tiny, beady eyes. Then it fell through the floor and disappeared in a swirl of blue-grey dust. I am not sure what that was, but I think I was either hallucinating or I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion and started dreaming again. 

This cannot be good for my health, so I am going to see a doctor tomorrow. 

I was awake this whole night and did not want to fall asleep. I’m afraid. It’s like the dreams are forcing their way into my life. 

April 10th, 2020

No sleep again for me tonight. I did go to see the doctor, though. He was astonished. After I described my dreams, he said he’d never seen anything like this before. Something so vivid and so real, but it wasn’t a lucid dream because I had no control. He gave me the number of a specialty clinic that might be able to do more for me. I have high hopes. 

April 21st, 2020

They moved me to a facility. I’ve been here for a week, and I’m genuinely happy. I haven’t had a dream since I came here. The medicine must be working.

I won’t be needing this journal anymore. 

Good night. 

April 10, 2020 21:33

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