A missing thud in the night
Sleep this weekend eluded me. I was awake for 24 hours straight from early Saturday to early Sunday, then I only had maybe 4 hours of sleep before having to start my day on Sunday.
It was a full day. It was the flower festival and bridging ceremony at our church. Then off to visit my Father-In -Law for Father's day. We finally returned home around 9pm.
So my daughter and I went through our normal bedtime routine. We both dosed off while reading. So I placed her into her crib, kissed my husband good night and proceeded into the bedroom to crawl into bed.
As I was dozing I was aware that my husband was still awake and moving about the house. A toilet would flush, a faucet would run, a door would open and I could hear his laughter from time to time. These sounds are such a part of my environment that they are calming to me.
My room never gets completely black at night. There is always ambient light around. So as I dose, I occasionally open my eyes to spy a cat that needs petting, or a dog that wants to lie next to the bed. Again, these are all such a part of my environment that they are expected and loved parts of my evenings.
At some point as I am dosing, I realize that the sounds of my husband have dissipated. I open my eyes to see if he has joined me in bed. The room is black as pitch. I do not hear anyone or anything, save the sound of my own breathing. I reach out to see if my cats or husband are in the bed with me.
As I reach out, I feel someone's presence at the door to my room.
The presence feels cold and foreboding. I speak "Honey?" while wondering if we lost power in the neighborhood.
Some part of me felt that there was something more sinister going on, but there was no logical explanation for my mounting fear. Except for the silence, the eerie complete silence.
There is no response from the figure that I am sure is in the doorway, even though I can not see it. I speak louder "HONEY?"
I feel the presence rush toward me. Soon I feel a weight on my chest. I begin to scream. "Get off of me! HELP!" Still all I can hear is the sound of my struggles as I fight for my next breath.
As I struggle, I feel the blankets lift up and come down over my face. I am engulfed in material, and unable to pull it away from my face. More weight seems to pile on my soon to be lifeless form. I scream louder and louder as the terror flows through me. My scream burns in my chest. I know I am wasting oxygen with my screams, but I can not help but hope that it will save me from my unseen and unheard attacker. I flail about and kick my legs which seem to be the only part of me that isn't being crushed with an ever increasing weight.
I know I only have but a moment left. While I am expending all of my physical energies, toward escaping, my mind starts to float. Thinking of tactical ways to fight and then flashing to memories of my daughter's smile or my husband's kiss.
I am not sure if it was the memories that helped me through, but I awakened from my ordeal. I was in bed, and my husband was lying by my side asking if I was alright. The light and sound had returned to my world. I nodded and said in a gravelly voice "Did you hear me scream?" He said he had heard me cry out, but it wasn't understandable. At the time, I couldn't help but be amazed at the power that the subconscious can have over us. I snuggled into my husband's arms and began to snooze again. This time with my head on his chest.
When I awoke this morning, I realized that last night, I either had a nightmare, or my husband tried to kill me. I'm going to assume it was a nightmare, but I'll be watching him carefully for a while.
It was a full day. It was the flower festival and bridging ceremony at our church. Then off to visit my Father-In -Law for Father's day. We finally returned home around 9pm.
So my daughter and I went through our normal bedtime routine. We both dosed off while reading. So I placed her into her crib, kissed my husband good night and proceeded into the bedroom to crawl into bed.
As I was dozing I was aware that my husband was still awake and moving about the house. A toilet would flush, a faucet would run, a door would open and I could hear his laughter from time to time. These sounds are such a part of my environment that they are calming to me.
My room never gets completely black at night. There is always ambient light around. So as I dose, I occasionally open my eyes to spy a cat that needs petting, or a dog that wants to lie next to the bed. Again, these are all such a part of my environment that they are expected and loved parts of my evenings.
At some point as I am dosing, I realize that the sounds of my husband have dissipated. I open my eyes to see if he has joined me in bed. The room is black as pitch. I do not hear anyone or anything, save the sound of my own breathing. I reach out to see if my cats or husband are in the bed with me.
As I reach out, I feel someone's presence at the door to my room.
The presence feels cold and foreboding. I speak "Honey?" while wondering if we lost power in the neighborhood.
Some part of me felt that there was something more sinister going on, but there was no logical explanation for my mounting fear. Except for the silence, the eerie complete silence.
There is no response from the figure that I am sure is in the doorway, even though I can not see it. I speak louder "HONEY?"
I feel the presence rush toward me. Soon I feel a weight on my chest. I begin to scream. "Get off of me! HELP!" Still all I can hear is the sound of my struggles as I fight for my next breath.
As I struggle, I feel the blankets lift up and come down over my face. I am engulfed in material, and unable to pull it away from my face. More weight seems to pile on my soon to be lifeless form. I scream louder and louder as the terror flows through me. My scream burns in my chest. I know I am wasting oxygen with my screams, but I can not help but hope that it will save me from my unseen and unheard attacker. I flail about and kick my legs which seem to be the only part of me that isn't being crushed with an ever increasing weight.
I know I only have but a moment left. While I am expending all of my physical energies, toward escaping, my mind starts to float. Thinking of tactical ways to fight and then flashing to memories of my daughter's smile or my husband's kiss.
I am not sure if it was the memories that helped me through, but I awakened from my ordeal. I was in bed, and my husband was lying by my side asking if I was alright. The light and sound had returned to my world. I nodded and said in a gravelly voice "Did you hear me scream?" He said he had heard me cry out, but it wasn't understandable. At the time, I couldn't help but be amazed at the power that the subconscious can have over us. I snuggled into my husband's arms and began to snooze again. This time with my head on his chest.
When I awoke this morning, I realized that last night, I either had a nightmare, or my husband tried to kill me. I'm going to assume it was a nightmare, but I'll be watching him carefully for a while.