Written by David M. Muench
picture from "the buckets"
I've had many "night terrors" similar to that; happening soon after I nod off - when I'm
on the razor-thin precipice between sleep and consciousness.
In my dreaming mind's eye, I've seen huge Spider Things drop down from the ceiling or a large, black snakes straight from Hades that have surreptitiously slinked its way to my jugular.
Naturally I don't wake up in a start, quickly realizing it was my imagination on methamphetamines, and gracefully fall back into peaceful slumber.
Noooo.
I have grabbed, swatted, kicked, and pummeled these "threats" that are -
in some primordial portion of my brain - as real as the nose on my face.
Sometimes I can make it as far as the floor beside the bed, gasping for breath with my
heart pounding against my ribcage after a tumultuous tussle with an evil nemesis in the form
of a giant python. A few other times I have even ventured to my bedroom light switch;
defiantly slamming it upward to flood the dastardly demons with a cleansing, holy light that only a 60 watt light bulb can bring.
Amusingly, the light also has a cleansing effect on my brain as well; and as I stand there
in my boxers, squinting against the harsh light while poised in a clumsy Tae Kwon Do
iron horse stance ready to defend myself, I realize that there really wasn't a dastardly demon.
Just a demented dumbass opening up a can of whoop ass on his comforter.
I shake my head in disbelief, flick the light back off, climb back into bed, and try to forget
that ever happened.
