what dreams may come...
Aug. 5th, 2015 07:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fufarawOccasionally, I have panic dreams that leave me suddenly awake and gasping, unable to stay in bed, even in the same room. I'm pretty sure they're caused by mild and occasional apnea, because they all involve being unable to breathe. I'm submerged in water, swimming from air hole to air hole, in the dark. Or I'm in a cave, following others through increasingly narrow passages, in the dark, and what wakes me is the possibility of getting stuck. This morning it was two small children down a storm drain.
I padded into the living room in the dark and cranked the laptop and spent time on Tumblr, because honestly? Pictures helped. Reading comprehension was nil. And as my heartbeat faded back to normal and I wrapped in a toasty blanket and sipped my water, I recalled one of the most traumatic things I've ever read.
More than twenty years ago, I read Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede and quickly slipped into the world of her main character. It was at least halfway through the book, maybe more, that we learn the loss of her child motivated a drastic change of life for her. And the memory of how that loss happened chilled and fractured me then, and does, even now, when I think of it. I try very hard never to think of it.
I won't relate it here, as I'm desperately trying to stuff that memory back into its lead-lined box. If I could solder it shut, I would. It's a fictional story, it happened to fictional characters, but I think this is probably as close as I ever come to being 'triggered', since real-life stuff that happened to real-life me hasn't ever elicited a response this traumatic. It doesn't fade or soften with time. It's always horrible.
This morning I was able to go back to bed and sleep an extra hour, but I'm behind in my obligations, so I'll be offline most of today. You'll all be here, right? When I get back?
I padded into the living room in the dark and cranked the laptop and spent time on Tumblr, because honestly? Pictures helped. Reading comprehension was nil. And as my heartbeat faded back to normal and I wrapped in a toasty blanket and sipped my water, I recalled one of the most traumatic things I've ever read.
More than twenty years ago, I read Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede and quickly slipped into the world of her main character. It was at least halfway through the book, maybe more, that we learn the loss of her child motivated a drastic change of life for her. And the memory of how that loss happened chilled and fractured me then, and does, even now, when I think of it. I try very hard never to think of it.
I won't relate it here, as I'm desperately trying to stuff that memory back into its lead-lined box. If I could solder it shut, I would. It's a fictional story, it happened to fictional characters, but I think this is probably as close as I ever come to being 'triggered', since real-life stuff that happened to real-life me hasn't ever elicited a response this traumatic. It doesn't fade or soften with time. It's always horrible.
This morning I was able to go back to bed and sleep an extra hour, but I'm behind in my obligations, so I'll be offline most of today. You'll all be here, right? When I get back?
