Archives for posts with tag: a night in the nightmare city

A Long Strange Night

October 16, 2025 //
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I woke several times during the night. I never figured out why. Each time I woke, i returned to sleep relatively easily. My sleep was restless and disturbed by peculiarly realistic dreams. By the end of the night, it seemed I was dreaming that I was awake, and my alarm got to full brightness, overhead light shining like an artificial sun as I woke from that last dream, walking along a trash-strewn crater pocked “beach” watching a savage discolored sun rise slowly.

I dreamt of masked armed thugs on the streets of American cities. I dreamt of chemical attacks, drone strikes, and bombs dropping on already flattened neighborhoods, and neat carefully planned rows of… rubble. I dreamt of fleeing, of hiding, and of fear. I dreamt of nightmare cities blasted by violence. I dreamt of blood and sorrow. I dreamt of waiting breathless and anxious for the next shock. It was a bad night and when I finally woke, my face was strangely gritty with the salt of dried tears.

… I don’t recall the details of my dreams, now, only vague themes and sensations, which are already fading, and for that I am grateful…

PTSD is sometimes a literal fucking nightmare. Thanks largely to the violence, and vile horrors and bad behavior of the current administration, PTSD symptoms I haven’t had to deal with for awhile are flaring up and demanding my attention, and my most committed and loving self-care. More fucking verbs – as if I have time for this shit right now. I sigh, rubbing my neck, and my shoulders, as well as I can without having extra hands. I gently massage my temples, and breathe. My anxiety surges, then eases, again and again. I feel hyper vigilant and pointlessly uneasy. It is an ordinary morning in all regards, aside from my subjective sense of persistent dread.

… And I’m tired…

I head down the trail in the usual way, although I am in more pain than usual, and feeling wary and watchful in the predawn darkness. It is quite chilly – the coldest morning we’ve had since back in the spring. 38°F (about 3.3°C). I’m grateful for the warm hiking socks, and comfy sweater beneath a warm cardigan. I breathe deeply as I walk, enjoying the scents of autumn. There is a hint of wood smoke in the taste of the air; people have begun using their fireplaces as the temperature cools.

I think about work and fret about money, and the future, and mortality, and preparedness, until I realize I’m getting spun up over imagined disasters and things that have not happened, or are not real concerns in my actual life, now. I inhale deeply, and exhale slowly until my lungs empty, as if the exhaled breath could carry with it all of my stress and anxiety. Sometimes it does. I pull my thoughts back to here, now. This is where I am, and everything begins right here. Every change, every moment of progress, every journey to come, it all starts in this moment – and conveniently enough, it is always “now”. That’s a lot of potential to work with!

I get to a pleasing stopping point, hands warm enough for writing, having been jammed deeply into my pockets while I walked. I sit on a convenient bench and examine the horizon for the first hint of daybreak. I take a moment to recognize that it is not my experience in this moment that is driving my emotions; it is my emotions creating my concerns, and my subjective experience of the moment. I can change this! I focus on the details here, now, and my breath. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate for unmeasured time, until an imagined soft chime coincides with a sense of “completeness”, and contentment. I’m okay. Anxiety is a liar. Emotions are not the totality of my experience, or of reality itself.

… It’s not personal, it’s just biochemistry and a human being human…

Trauma in life changes our brain even down to the hormones and chemistry of our bodies and emotions. I’m no expert, but I’ve tried to keep up on the science. There are ways to regain our joy, corral our volatility, and manage our emotions without stifling our creativity with drugs, undermining our humanity by becoming numb to ourselves, or allowing our good character to be compromised. It may require asking for help. It’ll definitely require a lot of practice – and probably some new practices and considerable change. I sigh to myself. So much change. So much practice.

I reflect for a moment on how far I’ve come over the past 15 years… it’s been quite a journey. I would not have dealt with a night like last night so well (and with such ease, relatively speaking) back in 2010. I’d have been tantrum prone, volatile, irrational, irritable, unapproachable, suspicious, guarded, and teetering on the thin edge between anger and tears, ready to blast some unwary associate or loved one unpredictably – and unable to talk about it, or sort out my own emotions from the real circumstances.

G’damn I am so grateful to be in a different place as a human being. All the work, practice, meditation, self-care, and therapy has been very much worth the time, effort, and expense. I walk a very different path now. I’m grateful that I do. I am grateful for the choices I made to change. I’m grateful to have a partner who loves and supports me.

Daybreak. Dawn soon. It looks to be a cold cloudy morning. No colorful sunrise today, just a dirty, pale, vaguely orange smudge along the edge of the eastern horizon.  As night becomes day, I get to my feet. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Where Are You Standing?

April 11, 2025 //
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The woman in my reflection stares pensively outward at some thought that isn’t a visible detail. My coffee sits nearby, untouched, sweating condensation into a pool on the desk. I should do something about that, I think, when I notice. The news annoys me. How can people – especially people of means and good fortune – be so incredibly petty, cruel, inconsiderate, and hateful? I don’t “get it”. I don’t think I actually understood that crap when it filled my own head. Untested assumptions, bullshit I was taught, terrible habits and so much ignorance… I definitely don’t understand it now.

…Feels like we’re all standing on quicksand somehow, these days, only very few people seem to be aware of it… or willing to find something firm to stand on…

I sigh to myself, and stand fast on my personal commitment to be the best version of myself that I can be, knowing what I know, seeing the world as I do, and having the skills I have. I’m certain to fail myself – and others – now and then. I’m very human, but I’m going to do my best to be a better human being today than I was yesterday, because it actually fucking matters. It matters every day, and in every interaction.

What about you? What are you doing to “make the world a better place”, you know, for everyone? You don’t need to tell me, just do the verbs. We become what we practice.

G’damn, I’m so tired this morning. Nightmares all night of strange terrifying things – hallways that never end. Doors that won’t unlock. Empty shelves and people dying of starvation, disease, and fire. Crawling terrified and silently beneath a shower of bullets in the darkness. I woke up choking – it’s just seasonal allergies that last bit, but it was an unpleasant way to wake up from a dream of chemical warfare and endless night. The commute to work was weird, too. The traffic going the opposite direction was quite dense and seemed to be moving faster than usual. There was no traffic at all going my way. I had the road to myself. It was so strange and surreal, for just a second I wondered if there had been some disaster or evacuation that I was unaware of, ahead of me. It was a chilling thought.

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

I’m mired in the gloom lingering from a night spent in The Nightmare City. I sip my coffee and work on letting that go.

Daybreak comes, and the sky beyond the window is ordinary enough, some blue, some clouds. There’s pleasant Spring weather in the forecast, however ugly the news is, however tragic and ridiculous our government has become. It’s a strange juxtaposition of circumstances and for the moment I miss my Traveling Partner and the safety of home, more than I can stand. I’d rather be in my garden, planting and weeding, and paying no mind to the world that often disappoints me so very much. Too much death, too much greed, too much warfare, and g’damn – too many terrible petty hateful people. I’ll choose my own path, thanks, and go a different direction. Not because I have to, but because I can – and it seems a choice worth making.

What will you choose? Where does your path lead? It’s time to begin again…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, grief, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, War and News of War, Words

A Room With a View

December 8, 2023 //
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Day two of my coastal getaway. I’m up at my usual time, sipping coffee and listening to the ocean instead of sounds of traffic somewhere nearby. It’s not that there’s no traffic nearby, there surely is. The hotel is quite near the highway, but it is nearer to the ocean, and the ocean is all I hear.

Daybreak at Siletz Bay

Yesterday was a good, if rather ordinary, work day. I worked. I worked from this hotel room on the shore of Siletz Bay, content to get up and stretch now and then, and snap pictures from the balcony as the light and the tides changed. Quite delightful. In the afternoon I walked on what remains of the beach after the tide went out, taking advantage of a break in the rain and a few minutes of sunshine. In the evening, I watched a couple videos my Traveling Partner had shared, and later, “together”, we watched a favorite creator’s newest video when it premiered (that was so much fun). Later still, I picked up a book I’m reading (Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers) and read awhile, until I became too sleepy to continue. It was, as I said, a good day. Quite pleasant and relaxed.

I woke once during the night, choking on a nightmare, wrapped in the airline of my CPAP machine. Because I was in “a strange place”, I was lacking the usual “everything’s okay” visual cues that I rely on to calm me quickly. I panicked. Thrashed in bed, frightened by “whatever” was wrapped around my neck (it wasn’t tight and there was no legitimate cause to be so alarmed, but I woke from a nightmare and was not thinking clearly). I lashed out with an alarmed exclamation, and ripped my CPAP mask from my face abruptly. Confused by the sound of velcro and plastic clips yielding to the forceful removal of my mask, I turned suddenly, falling off the edge of the bed and hitting the floor with a thud. I sat there for a minute, gasping and crying, and confused. “Breathe, breathe, breathe,” I reminded myself silently. One deep breathe after another. My heart rate began to slow. The dream images began to fade. I began to regain a sense of where I actually was in time and space. Another breath. Another. I got up off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed in the dark. I’d somehow managed not to pull the CPAP machine off the nightstand, and none of the clips on the mask assembly were broken. I shrugged silently in the dimness, illuminated softly by the balcony light (I often leave the curtain partially open so that the sunrise wakes me). I give myself a minute, then pee and get a drink of water before going back to bed.

These sorts of things aren’t all that unusual for me, though far rarer these days than they were years ago. They’re more likely in strange places, or after particularly stressful or trying days. Funny that I had such a bad nightmare last night. When I went back to bed, I left the balcony door open just a crack, to more easily hear the sounds of the sea and the wind and the rain. Soothing. I slept well and deeply and woke gently some time later. A usual time. A usual sort of awakening. I’m okay, and I don’t remember now what my nightmare was even about. Considering the panic over the mask and the airline, quite likely it was built on recollections of my violent first marriage or the experience of wearing a gas mask sitting in a foxhole during the war. Or both. Trauma leaves a lasting impression.

I sip my coffee and reflect quietly on how far I’ve come. A nightmare of that severity would have wrecked days of emotional balance, not so long ago, leaving me vulnerable to fits of temper, fearfulness, insecurity, and unexpected tears. This cup of coffee is pretty good. The morning is quite pleasant. It has become easier to begin again. 🙂

The tide is coming in. It will be high tide in a little while. Some time after I’ll do something about breakfast. The work day is ahead of me – maybe a short one? I smile and continue to sip my coffee while it is still pleasantly hot.

A sliver of moon is all that remains of the night.

I miss my Traveling Partner, but I’m sure glad I didn’t wake him with my nightmare. (That’s a terrible way to wake up!) I smile, finish this cup of coffee and consider another, as I listen to the waves crashing against the beach and feel the sea breeze pouring into the room. The air feels fresh and clean. It’s not the cold of a sparkling winter morning. The “Pineapple Express” brings storms with it, but also fairly mild temperatures, more like late Spring or early Summer. Delightful. I will definitely take a walk on the beach, later. For now, the tide robs me of beach to walk. Later will be soon enough. Right now? It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, grief, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Bad Dreams

February 8, 2023 //
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Last night was rough. Bad dreams. The kind of shit that, over time, makes my “sleep aversion” flare up.

…Last night the whole world was burning…

Something woke me – my Traveling Partner? I think so; checking on me – I’d been having a difficult day (although nothing much seemed “wrong”, really). I remember telling him to “stay close to the dogs, they’ll guide you away from the firestorms”. We don’t own a dog. It was weird and terrifying. I remember trying to drag myself from sleep to make sure my partner was safe, and waking more fully in the dark, alone.

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

Eventually I made my way out of the Nightmare City and slept more deeply. Fewer dreams. Woke in the morning, feeling unsettled, uneasy, with tears dried on my cheeks. I have a vague recollection that my Traveling Partner may have said something about being awake all night – watching over me, or? But that may have been part of my dreams.

Be kind to people. It costs you nothing to do so. The world has some issues right now, war, femicide, exploitation, earthquakes – and soon enough, somewhere, the forests or savannahs will be on fire. Again. Damn, we could do so much better. Could have done better, beginning so much longer ago. It’s only necessary to listen to some of the lies businesses have told about products they sell that they knew were dangerous to human (or other) life, or spend some time looking over the many ways various governments have abused or exploited their citizens, to know we could have been doing better. A lot better. We’re not individually exempt; human beings are less civilized that we like to make ourselves out to be.

I guess it’s all just sort of “working on my mind” lately. I sip my water and think about that. Where is the balance point between “letting it go” and “changing it”? How do I make doing my own best count the most for … everything and everyone else, too?

I rub my eyes. Tears begin to well up, and I grit my teeth and force my emotions down. I have shit to do today.

I sigh and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Frustration, grief, Hormone Hell, Metaphors, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, War and News of War