Hello, November
Goodbye, October.
I'm trying to remember what there is to look forward to this time of year. I'm trying to think of the rich life and joy and experiences I have in this barren wasteland of winter. But winter has always been hard for me, for about as long as I've been able to call life hard. I'd say it was the season, but I think it could be any time of year so long as I have no well of joy to draw from. Bleakness is right around the corner, and I have very few positive precedents to look at.
But for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of trying to get through another year, I'll find some.
Walking to the coffeeshop in the snow. Christmas presents wrapped in newspaper. Midnights playing video games and lighting incense. Holding onto the car door, skating on the ice. Sleeping between my brother and sister, listening to New Years fireworks. Calling Lev during Mario Party. Buffy with Joker.
It's so bare. But I have a thousand and one paler memories, ones that stand out as fall slips away and winter finds its teeth.
Christmas shopping for knives. Finding lies for why I am being pulled out of school. The Night the Ceiling Fell Down On My Soul. The crushing guilt. New Years alone two years in a row. When Harry Met Sally. Cheers. Detoxing my best friend. Detoxing myself. Threatening to jump. Finding out how Sticks felt. The first time Sid choked me. Staying up all night terrified.
There! Now that we have moved past that little self pity party!
I have been having night terrors like crazy.
When I was about eight, my dad lived in this A-Frame house on a hill. (To my memory, it looked a lot like this one.) It had three stories; technically, it had one floor, a loft, and a basement, but my brother, sister, and I took advantage of every inch of it. I actually don't remember much of it; he only lived in it for less than a year, so I only spent one winter there. There was not a dedicated room for me or my siblings, which was the case at other houses he lived in. In fact, there was technically only one bedroom, and my dad's girlfriend called that one. The rest of us - my dad, my brother, my sister and I - all slept in the basement.
This was the house I experienced some of my first night terrors in.
I try not to think about this connection.
Apparently, it started with me sitting up in bed and screaming. As far as I'm aware, night terrors like this are not terribly uncommon for children. I think this became a problem, and I seem to remember my brother and sister moving bedrooms.
I don't remember much else, but my dad used to tell stories of me running through the house, screaming about someone coming to get me, sometimes into other people's beds. He blamed it on some horror game I played on the PC, and made me stop playing it. He always told the stories like it was really funny, but I remember how upset he would get when he thought I was going to have another night terror.
I didn't remember much of that winter. Not until ten years later, in a tent in the middle of the woods.
I didn't have another night terror for nearly ten years.
I try not to think about this connection.
Ever since moving to Raleigh, my night terrors have been getting worse. At first, I remembered every single one. My screaming frightened me more than whatever figure I imaged at the end of the best. However, the nightmares became more real. They seeped into my reality, a fact much more frightening than my screaming. I began to fear sleep. I started having normal nightmares even when I didn't have night terrors.
I brought up going to therapy a number of times.
I started hitting Slynk in our sleep. Sometimes I'd remember it in the morning, other times I wouldn't. At first, I remember knowing who he was, angry that he was sleeping and not saving me from the person crawling in through our window. Eventually, he began morphing into the person who was hurting me. One night, I bruised him, lost in a dream that he was choking me.
For the past few months, I've slept very little. I'm not tired, or I'm too anxious to sleep, or I wake up in the middle of the night. On nights I do sleep through, I wake up to Slynk telling me I hurt him again, or I was poking him all night, or I kept shaking him awake.
I started sleeping on the couch sometimes.
One week, not long ago, I had night terrors every night for four or five days. I was exiled from my bed. I slept on the couch alone, night after night. I became withdrawn and depressed. I blamed myself for my fucked up sleeping cycle. I thought about hurting myself very badly and sought the aid of a crisis chat. When I finally got through to someone, I admitted to them how alone I felt. I confessed that all I needed was a friend, and that being forced to turn to strangers for friendship made me feel so exposed. After revealing this about myself, I felt so sick and ashamed that I threw up on the porch.
Eventually, I was let back into my bed, but I still get scared. I try not to think about it. I haven't had a night terror or nightmare in over a week, which lately has been a record.
I guess I just thought if I talked about it, I could get through it.
I'll try.
I'm trying to remember what there is to look forward to this time of year. I'm trying to think of the rich life and joy and experiences I have in this barren wasteland of winter. But winter has always been hard for me, for about as long as I've been able to call life hard. I'd say it was the season, but I think it could be any time of year so long as I have no well of joy to draw from. Bleakness is right around the corner, and I have very few positive precedents to look at.
But for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of trying to get through another year, I'll find some.
Walking to the coffeeshop in the snow. Christmas presents wrapped in newspaper. Midnights playing video games and lighting incense. Holding onto the car door, skating on the ice. Sleeping between my brother and sister, listening to New Years fireworks. Calling Lev during Mario Party. Buffy with Joker.
It's so bare. But I have a thousand and one paler memories, ones that stand out as fall slips away and winter finds its teeth.
Christmas shopping for knives. Finding lies for why I am being pulled out of school. The Night the Ceiling Fell Down On My Soul. The crushing guilt. New Years alone two years in a row. When Harry Met Sally. Cheers. Detoxing my best friend. Detoxing myself. Threatening to jump. Finding out how Sticks felt. The first time Sid choked me. Staying up all night terrified.
There! Now that we have moved past that little self pity party!
I have been having night terrors like crazy.
When I was about eight, my dad lived in this A-Frame house on a hill. (To my memory, it looked a lot like this one.) It had three stories; technically, it had one floor, a loft, and a basement, but my brother, sister, and I took advantage of every inch of it. I actually don't remember much of it; he only lived in it for less than a year, so I only spent one winter there. There was not a dedicated room for me or my siblings, which was the case at other houses he lived in. In fact, there was technically only one bedroom, and my dad's girlfriend called that one. The rest of us - my dad, my brother, my sister and I - all slept in the basement.
This was the house I experienced some of my first night terrors in.
I try not to think about this connection.
Apparently, it started with me sitting up in bed and screaming. As far as I'm aware, night terrors like this are not terribly uncommon for children. I think this became a problem, and I seem to remember my brother and sister moving bedrooms.
I don't remember much else, but my dad used to tell stories of me running through the house, screaming about someone coming to get me, sometimes into other people's beds. He blamed it on some horror game I played on the PC, and made me stop playing it. He always told the stories like it was really funny, but I remember how upset he would get when he thought I was going to have another night terror.
I didn't remember much of that winter. Not until ten years later, in a tent in the middle of the woods.
I didn't have another night terror for nearly ten years.
I try not to think about this connection.
Ever since moving to Raleigh, my night terrors have been getting worse. At first, I remembered every single one. My screaming frightened me more than whatever figure I imaged at the end of the best. However, the nightmares became more real. They seeped into my reality, a fact much more frightening than my screaming. I began to fear sleep. I started having normal nightmares even when I didn't have night terrors.
I brought up going to therapy a number of times.
I started hitting Slynk in our sleep. Sometimes I'd remember it in the morning, other times I wouldn't. At first, I remember knowing who he was, angry that he was sleeping and not saving me from the person crawling in through our window. Eventually, he began morphing into the person who was hurting me. One night, I bruised him, lost in a dream that he was choking me.
For the past few months, I've slept very little. I'm not tired, or I'm too anxious to sleep, or I wake up in the middle of the night. On nights I do sleep through, I wake up to Slynk telling me I hurt him again, or I was poking him all night, or I kept shaking him awake.
I started sleeping on the couch sometimes.
One week, not long ago, I had night terrors every night for four or five days. I was exiled from my bed. I slept on the couch alone, night after night. I became withdrawn and depressed. I blamed myself for my fucked up sleeping cycle. I thought about hurting myself very badly and sought the aid of a crisis chat. When I finally got through to someone, I admitted to them how alone I felt. I confessed that all I needed was a friend, and that being forced to turn to strangers for friendship made me feel so exposed. After revealing this about myself, I felt so sick and ashamed that I threw up on the porch.
Eventually, I was let back into my bed, but I still get scared. I try not to think about it. I haven't had a night terror or nightmare in over a week, which lately has been a record.
I guess I just thought if I talked about it, I could get through it.
I'll try.