Fortunately the pills that I take make it so that the nightmares don't incapacitate me the following day. They begin to fall to pieces when I wake up, and that process continues as the morning wears on, so I don't have the entire horrid dream sequence lingering in my head. Instead I just have flashes of what happened, like half-remembered memories of events you lived through but would rather forget.
They never feel like dreams. They feel like an alternate life. They are so real and immediate that I truly do feel like I have an entire second lifetime that begins every night when I fall asleep.
Flashes remaining from this one:
- Some sort of awful disease ravaging the world, trying to hide from it all and watching the coverage on the news while entire cities went mad and began killing randomly
- Trying to hide my cats from something I knew was hunting us all
- Running up and down the halls of an apartment building in blackout, looking for the right door and feeling the thing chasing me gaining with every footstep
- A roomful of girls smeared with blood from the tortures their captors were inflicting upon them with shiny, sharp instruments hung on the wall
- Trying to fight back and screaming at the top of my lungs for help, but none ever came
It's better now, and I'm still aware of how much worse it would be if I wasn't taking something to make the dreams break into jagged shards like a smashed mirror. I can feel the shadow of dream memories like an echo instead of the scream they would otherwise be. Before the medication, I would have had a horrible time making myself leave the house after a nightmare of this magnitude. So far as I'm concerned, all that bad stuff did happen to me. It was as vivid as anything in the waking world. As Dumbledore once said to Harry Potter, "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"
These are real, and they are poisonous. The pills provide a mitigating antidote of sorts, and I am glad I have them.