Bad Dreams

I had a remarkably grim set of nightmares through the evening last night, waking several times and picking them back up in such a way that each seemed to be an episode of some grimly sadistic and gory film series. In the end, at five in the morning I decided that I’d had enough of trying to sleep or even of considering trying to use lucid dreaming to quash and subvert the imagery.

The gist of the nightmares was that I was both tenant and prisoner of a rambling mansion whose genius loci manifested as a suave and classy man in his mid thirties. Impeccably dressed, he would manifest in each dream every time the house was filled with new tenants and then slaughter them in brutal and innovatively surreal and sadistic ways in front of me. Gripped by terror I was unable to intervene, and their deaths was the price of my continued existence.

The violence was graphic, bloody and sudden – with bones shattered, faces pulped, objects used to fillet, impale and otherwise distress the flesh – all generally sickening and accompanied by this calm monologue from this spirit about how all this was necessary and transient – like some strange mishmash of Saw, Nightmare on Elm St, and Hellraiser.

Normally when I get unpleasant dream imagery upsetting me I use lucid dreaming techniques to re-enter and explore them, deconstructing and understanding them before banishing them like some all-conquering superhero or magus. This time I was just too nauseated and disturbed by them to even want to – so I just woke up and contented myself with the mixture of content on my social media streams for an hour or so until Lady M awoke (or at least admitted being awake after all my tossing and turning in the night)

Apparently I was tossing and turning the night before as well – so I’m hoping that if I was having similar dream content the night before that dragging it out into the conscious part of my brain will reduce the odds of it coming out to play from the subconscious again tonight.

Yuck

About Tim Maidment

Writer, House Husband, Raconteur and Bon Vivant
This entry was posted in idle musings, mental health, worries and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s