#0004 describe your most recent nightmare.
I had my most recent nightmare a couple of weeks ago.
A personal note to Carly and Greg M.
Don’t read this. I implore you, DO NOT.
Before I go anymore further into detail, if you have any connection to the Dayton, Ohio Oregon District mass shooting tragedy- don’t read this.
When I dream, I tend to have vivid dreams. Most nights I cannot say that I remember what I dreamt about, but when I do, they are very real. It feels tangible. I can feel physical touch, pain and emotion in my dreams. I have held audible conversations with others in my sleep while I’ve been dreaming.
Most of my dreams are pleasant- they do not make much sense, or they can be revealing to me in some way about a problem or issue that needs solving. When I have a nightmare, I am paralyzed with fear and emotion. I will often wake up crying or still experiencing the emotional impact of the dream. Sometimes it lasts into the day or for days I can still feel it. Nightmares have caused me to endure panic attack episodes, heart palpitations and many sleepless nights.
The tragedy in the Oregon District happened in the early morning hours of August 4, 2019.
There is no need for me to explain the situation, because it is well documented online and is now forever etched into the history of senseless gun crime in this country.
But what I will say is this: The Oregon District is home to me. It’s familiar. It is a place where I can be me. I’m accepted there for whatever I am and am not. I have great friends in my life who come from there, own businesses there, who live and work there. I was supposed to be in the district the night of the shooting. I was getting ready to venture to downtown Dayton when I suddenly became ill and decided to stay home. The shooting affected me severely and still bothers me greatly today. I’ve only been in the district twice since the shooting and I previously averaged going there weekly. I have a hard time being there. My favorite store in the district, Heart Mercantile, is directly across the street from Ned Pepper’s bar where the majority of the incident occurred. 4 days outside of the shooting, I visited the district to pay respects to the victims and see for myself what I was constantly seeing on television and hearing on the radio. The streets were still blood stained among the memorials that had been popping up all over 5th street. I cried on the street while hugging strangers as we all tried to wrap our heads around what happened just a short time before.
The day I went down there to see for myself what was going on, that night my nightmare came.
In my dream, my night in the Oregon District started out like any other night. My friend Greg was there, and he and I walked out of Tumbleweed (a bar) down to Heart Mercantile. For some reason I noticed the lights were on and the store was open late- but it was actually closed. I remember looking at my watch, it said 12:45 AM. My friend Carly was in the store (she’s a co-owner), saw us and motioned for us to come in. She unlocked the door for us. Carly was stocking the store and since Greg had never met her, I introduced him to her. We stood there talking for what seemed to be the longest time. The details of the conversation are not important, but I remember every word, action, laugh, comment, sound on the store audio system- everything, down to the creek in the floorboards by the register counter near the grate in the floor. Carly gave me a hug as we left. I felt the embrace, I remember in my sleep feeling how real it was. Greg and I headed out the front door, our mission was Ned Pepper’s to catch the last band of the night.
I remember glancing down at my watch again. Greg stepped off the curb about 10 paces ahead of me, onto the brick paved street as we headed off to Ned’s, and before I knew it shots were ringing out. I ducked down, not realizing what was going on and I stumbled backwards and fell. Greg fell too, or so I thought. I got up quickly to run as more gunfire was filling the night air. Greg didn’t get up. I was in such a daze that I couldn’t process anything. Carly was at the door of the store behind me, she ran out to grab me. I think she was going to pull me into the store where we had cover. She grabbed my left arm above the elbow, and I know this because when I woke up, I still felt a pressure on my arm. As I turned with her to run into the store, she fell too. I stumbled in the store, laid on the floor and listened as the police ended the situation. When everything was said and done, my two friends were gone, and I immediately woke up panicked. I actually screamed in my sleep and it was loud enough that it woke my dad up who was in his bedroom, 3 doors down the hall over window air conditioner noise and his television that he never turns off when he sleeps. I remember seeing the vivid and graphic details of the aftermath of the situation. It stuck with me for days, nearly a week, but it has lessened now. I know they are both safe and sound. I’ve seen them both several times since and it was all just a mindfuck. But a very real mindfuck involving two people who hold a great significance in my life at this point in time. You cannot even imagine how I felt when I woke up, sweat pouring off my brow and tears running down my face.
I purposefully left out a lot of details in respect for those involved in the real situation and also for those who were involved in this hellish mental game my brain played on me in my sleep.
I’m ending this abruptly because I have nothing else to say.
