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.

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.

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.