Well, you can read it if you want to, but don't say I didn't warn you. This post is likely to contain some freaky, gruesome, she-should-really-only-share-that-with-her-therapist shit. I'm sorry, I can't help it. I don't have a therapist, and this has to go somewhere.
For a lot of people, depression comes with not being able to sleep. I have always considered myself blessed to be the opposite way--the more depressed I am, the more I sleep. This is odd, because depression comes with nightmares for me, but the nightmares have never been bad enough to keep me from sleep. This is undoubtably because when I'm depressed, sleep is the only thing I don't hate, or at least feel strong distaste towards.
This time is different. I am having some of the most disturbing nightmares of my life. This has happened to me once before, when I started college. I spent most of my first semester at Reed awake, due to overwelming reoccuring nightmares centered around being alone in a hospital. I continued to have these well past college, with decreasing frequency, and they finally went away all together. Haven't had one in a couple of years.
This time, though, the nightmares are even worse. And Mark, who I credit with finally scaring the hospital nightmares away, can't come to my rescue, because I can't tell him about these.
At first, I was just dreaming about the way Chance looked when we last saw him in the hospital, after his second surgery. He had to have his stomach and bowels cleaned out, so his hindquarters were covered in shit and his tail was covered in tape. He was lying on his side, his eyes were open, but he was not conscious. He was wrapped in tape and bandages from the neck to the back legs, holding on a heat blanket, a catheter, a drainage tube, and an IV. He was in bad, bad shape. Dreaming about him looking like that, any thought about him looking like that, is hard to bear.
But then it got so much worse.
I've been dreaming, nearly every night, about eating Chance. About having him served to me on a platter, usually looking like he looked at the animal hospital. Sometimes with no head. About cutting and chewing and swallowing. These are horrible, vivid, nauseating dreams. It brings bile to my throat to even write about them. And the fact that I am having the dreams is bothering me nearly as much as the dreams themselves. What part of grief is having dreams about eating your dying pet? And how do you STOP having them?
When I'm not having those horrific dreams, I am having dreams about Chance attacking me, tearing huge chunks of my flesh from my body. But it's not really Chance, it's dead Chance. And no matter how much he tears from me, I somehow remain intact. While these are preferable to the previous dreams, they are hardly pleasant.
So. That's what is going on. That's what I haven't told anyone. I have thought about telling Mark a couple of times, when I wake up in the middle of the night bawling and terrified, but I can't do that to him. What if the dreams are contagious? And even if they aren't, why would I even give these thoughts to him? I can't do that. But I really needed to tell someone. Sorry, you were it.
Comments (5)
Ugh, that's bad - you have my sympathy since i get this prior to eleven periods out of twelve. I don't have any failsafe advice, but knackering yourself out so much that you are too tired to dream sometimes helps. Also, avoid all disturbing stuff (including the news if necessary) in the evenings, even if you feel drawn to it. Hopefully since the nightmares weren't this bad before they won't be forever.
Posted by Nella | August 8, 2005 7:13 AM
Maybe writing about it will help release it. I am so sorry you are going through this.
Posted by Siobhan | August 8, 2005 8:08 AM
Ouch, this is bad. I got some nightmares after burying one of my cats in my garden; in the dreams I had buried her alive and she ... well, doesn't matter. Anyway, I think that this is somekind of guilt and you think that Chance blames you for his pain and death. But you are not to blame! You did everything you could and even though he died it is not your fault. Really.
And I do think you should tell Mark about your nightmares, not in details, but that your nightmares probably stem from guilt and I'm sure that Mark will agree with me and be more able to convince you than I am that you are not to blame. I had a long period of nightmares and when I told my therapist he looked at me strangely and said, "Why on earth do you think that your dreams can be anything but bad? You are paranoid and anxious thinking everything bad will happen to you in your waking hours - why do you think that your brain will do something else while you are asleep?" (not his exact words, but almost) So, until you are over the worst of the grief, and the guilt - you might be stuck with the dreams. Sorry that I'm being harsh and bring such bad tidings.
Posted by Princess of Cybermob | August 8, 2005 9:49 AM
I actually had something similar about my parakeet that died. It was awful. And scary. If you ever feel the need for a therapist, by the way, just scream at me and I'll tell you the number of the one I used to see. She's so nice. So, so, nice. And if you need someone to hold your hand in the waiting room or anything at all, really, I'll be there in 2 weeks. Take good care of yourself.
Posted by Sofiya | August 8, 2005 4:13 PM
Holy cow. Grace, I've suffered from some pretty horrible nightmares in my time, some worse that what you describe, but they were never consistent and recurring. I've had the "Hand-Mutilation" series, the "Me-As-A-Reluctant-Hit-man" series, among worse. Interpreting your dream is difficult becasue I really don't know you that well. I just check your blog occasionally to see what fellow alumnae are up to. But, it seems to relate very strongly to consuming. In the dreams, you are consuming Chance; Chance is consuming you. Perhaps this is emblematic of daily life. If you could draw a pie chart of what you think about during the day, how big is the wedge that represents you thinking about Chance? How about the wedge that represents you thinking about thinking about Chance? Taken together, I imagine they are pretty big. Is your life being consumed by your lost companion? I don't have any advice for you, so I don't feel I can help you out. I do identify with you however. I'm very stressed about my life right now, and the unresolved issues in my life seem to occupy so much of that thought-pie that there is no room for anyting else, namely doing my job, or more importantly, enjoying what I do have and what does make sense in my life. I'm just trying to 'ride it out' until the counseling center opens for the school year here.
Posted by Eric | August 9, 2005 5:33 PM