Harold was knifed in the back ...

Harold was knifed in the back ….

The first nightmare that I remember began with me playing in the driveway, out front of our house. I am not sure if I had started school yet.  I was a young thing at the time.

I was playing in the drive, very close to the road.  I was allowed there because Harold, one of my older brothers, was closer to the road than I was.  I saw a man with a knife coming down to road toward Harold and I ran and ran and ran.  Although the house was very close in real life and in the dream both, it was amazing how long I ran to get to the door.  I looked back and saw Harold with a knife in his back.  I ran into the house, opened the stairs door, and sat in the dark behind the stairs, hiding and crying. (Adding to the terror was the fact that I was not allowed on the stairs without permission.  I was aware of that even in the nightmare.) I heard noises as the house door opened and footsteps can toward the door.  I didn’t know if it was Harold (he slept upstairs and I would have been in his way if he was going to his room) or the man with the knife.  (Never mind that the knife was in Harold’s back, he was still the man with the knife as far as I was concerned.)   As the noises came closer to the door and I cowered down on the steps in the dark, I finally woke up.     

When I woke up, I felt guilty.  Why did I dream that someone knifed Harold?  I felt that I was a 'bad sister'.  Before too many years, I had realized that different events of the day and things I read and heard would fall together with imagination and create dreams and nightmares that were no reflection of my true feelings. 

I always dream.  If I am wake up at any time during the night, I wake up from a dream.  I claim that the reason I find it hard to wake up is because I’m as active (or more active) at night than in the day.  Whether I wake up from a loud noise, kids knocking on my door, alarm clock, or waking on my own, it’s always from a dream. 

Sometimes I need to talk about the dream and Stephen has to endure me detailing the dream; 10 minutes, 15 minutes … I remember them in great detail.    Occasionally, talking about the dream is the best way to break the hold it has on me.  I try not to tell him about my dreams unless I need to do so to break the hold it has on me.  He is quite tired of my dreams and the LONG time it takes me to tell the very detailed dreams. 

About five times in my life I remember waking up without the awareness of dreaming.  It is a very odd feeling.  It’s as if I went from non-existence to existence.  For most people, this is normal.  For me, it’s very unsettling. 

Of course, waking up is a jolt, going from one existence (or universe) to another.  Sometimes I’m in space, other times in school, or in many other situations and places.  I’ve woke up with fast heart rate (the guy chasing me nearly grabbed me), tears on my pillow (finding dead children or worse and yes, there is worse), or with hands clenched tight to hold on so I won’t fall a thousand feet to the bottom of the cliff.  If I wake suddenly instead of a slow wakening, it takes a while to adjust to real life. 

I used to have horrible nightmares; words can’t express the horror of them.  The one about Harold was very minor compared to some of the nightmares.  I’m sure many of you relate and have had dreams worse than mine, if it’s possible!  I’d call out, be kicking my feet, or be crying.  The noise and movement would wake Stephen and he would wake me up.  He’d hold me until I was able to relax again. 

Finally, after a series of particularly bad nightmares, Stephen did what we should have thought of long before then; he prayed.  Since that time, I’ve had very few of those horrific nightmares.

The stairs door is right behind daddy. three steps then the door.

Stairs with the door open.

Me 'swimming' and Harold is on the right.  (Left is Donald and Judy is in the middle.)