Waking up from a nightmare is difficult, especially when you can’t tell if it’s reality or just another bad dream. It’s unsettling to lie there, unsure if your nightmare was real, if it’s over, or if the thoughts racing through your mind are making things better or worse. I know these nightmares well; they are rarely new and often feel like a bad horror movie on repeat. The medication I’m on helps most of the time, but I’ve noticed that excess stress can overpower the meds and bring the nightmares back in full force.

I’ve talked about nightmares before, and anyone with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can tell you how real they feel. Outside of the people I see at the PTSD clinic at the VA, I don’t think I’ve ever described what one of my nightmares contains, and I don’t really have the urge to. I’m just glad they happen at night; I rarely suffer from daytime flashbacks. Most daytime recollections I have are mild and more like unpleasant daydreams. I have tools to handle things during the day, but those tools don’t really work at 3 AM when you’re not sure if you’re actually awake, your heart is beating out of your chest, and your shirt is soaked in sweat. In fact, those tools don’t work at all. Almost 90 minutes later, my heart is still racing, and I’m only 90% sure I’m awake and that the thoughts racing through my mind are more than just a continuation of my nightmare. It blows, honestly, and sucks because it sets the tone for the rest of my day.

I try very hard on mornings and days like this not to shut down and retreat back into my protective shell. I know it’s unhealthy and never really fixes anything anyway. I do have to work hard not to be an asshole to people, though. Part of me tends to feel like making everyone else suffer with me. Yes, I know that doesn’t fix anything either, but depending on who I get to be an asshole to, sometimes it makes me feel better. On a more serious note, it’s just hard to be normal when you’re tired, frustrated, and preoccupied with overanalyzing a stupid nightmare. I know it’s not real, and I end up using every tool I’ve learned, spending the day picking apart my nightmare piece by piece to prove to myself it’s not real and why it’s not real. My problem is that it doesn’t seem to stop the nightmare from recurring, and it doesn’t stop my desire to retreat.

Like everything else, I know I will survive. I know I won’t have a nightmare every time I attempt to sleep. I just wish I could say they will go away forever one day. The problem with that belief is no one has yet to tell me they will. I know what living in my reality is like, and having night terrors be a part of it royally sucks. Just remember, PTSD is not a choice. We didn’t wake up one day and decide, “Hey! Let’s have nightmares and flashbacks for the rest of our lives!”