nightmares

I was having a mundane dream the other night. I can’t even tell you what was going on, except that I was in a hotel and there was a lot of hustle and bustle. Possibly some thoughts about which room was mine, or about checking out. The usual “where am I going?” feeling.

Oh, a flash of memory – the dream began as a slow-pitch softball game. A woman I don’t like was the pitcher, and she cheated and said that I struck out when I had done no such thing.

HUMPF.

Anyway, the softball dream morphed into a boring/confusing hotel dream, and then I was suddenly terrified.

The worst part of nightmares is that your brain creates the nightmares. It will create the things that terrify you or disgust you the most, and you are defenseless against it. It IS you. For instance, before I began killing them in video games, I was terrified of zombies. Well, I’m still scared of zombies. So the majority of my dreams over the years have been filled with zombies, including my all-time worst nightmare ever.

And while I can honestly say that I have not been scared by a Friday the 13th movie for many, many years, I was almost immobile with terror when I realized in my most recent nightmare that Jason Voorhees was coming to get me. I had that bad moment when I couldn’t decide where to go or what to do, all the while knowing that he can’t be stopped or killed. I even had the thought, “I’m not telekinetic! How am I supposed to fight him as I am?”

Then I turned around, and Jason was there, just on the other side of a thick glass door. Huge and menacing and ready to kill me.

Of course there was nowhere for me to go except into the bedroom and out the window, even though I was on the 20th floor, or maybe higher. I knew that the thick glass wouldn’t hold him for long. I wondered whether it would be better to be macheted to death, or whether I’d rather die of fright if I slipped and fell when I went out the window.

I woke up in a dark bedroom where I could hardly see, and I was convinced that I was going to die.

Thanks, brain.

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