Sorry,I slept in.
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Sorry,I slept in.
[LAST EDIT: JUL.27TH.2022]
ASK BOX STATUS: OPEN
I've finally finished! Completely handmade book. #art #artist #doodle #sketch #sketchbook #drawing #ink #inkpen #dippen #bortoletti #myth #mythology #german #deutsche #krampus #wolf #elf #nightmare #nighterrors #sleepparalysis #creepy #animal #creature #artistsoninstagram #book #handmade #diy #silkscreen #cotton #bookbinding #goth #gothic #metal
Error: So apparently Blue is holding a dance and I have to bring my boyfriend but I'm single as shit and-
Cross and Nightmare, standing a few feet away, holding signs that read 'avalible': Single, you say? Go on.
#nighterrors at the Alcazar tonight for #krmisfitcabaret . (at Alcazar Theatre) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3i8oqAHj-b/?igshid=rno5vo220q1x
#nighterrors at the Alcazar tonight for #krmisfitcabaret. Looking forward to more local live artistic brilliance in 2020 (at Alcazar Theatre) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3i8WDSnbYA/?igshid=7g22pewx8a27
What is Sleep?
*TW- emotional & physical abuse
I haven't given my followers much of a background story so far, but I will get to it eventually. Right now I need to talk about a more pressing matter: my aversion to sleep.
I have been afraid to sleep for as long as I can remember. As a child, I wasn't afraid of the dark, but my mother was. She would have me sleep in her room while my father worked the night shift. I didn't understand why she was afraid, and I didn't know whether or not I should also be afraid. Eventually I was, but I had no idea what I was afraid of. I can still remember the nightmares...
My mother firmly believes that dreams are messages from God and communications from loved ones who have passed on. Every dream was significant. Every. Single. One. She constantly warned me that my nightmares would either come true or held deep meanings that I needed to pay attention to or something terrible could happen. I believed her. I fought sleep, I was so afraid of what dreams I could have. I would talk to myself at night. Creating stories so that I would be too occupied to fall asleep. Eventually I would find ways to read at night. Anything but sleep.
It eventually got to a point where most of my dreams were about her. Being afraid of her, being trapped by her, disappointing her. I never was sure what she wanted from me, but how could I make her happy if I didn't know? When I left my mother's house I thought I was finally free, but I was mistaken.
The incident with... let's call him Javan... made things a million times worse. I thought I knew him, but it turned out that he was pretending to be someone else. Not being under the restrictions of my mother he was finally free to make his move. I became legitimately trapped. I was his prey, and he tormented me on a daily basis. He took care to ensure that I couldn't escape. 8 months I was his prisoner.
The things he did to me physically were horrible... even though it has been years since anyone has physically harmed me, the pain is still etched inside my brain. The fear is still very much alive despite the distance, time, and happiness I have had since then. No matter how much I think I have conquered my PTSD, when I dream it feels like it was just yesterday. Granted, the night terrors aren't as frequent. I no longer scream and fight in my sleep like I used too. Although waking up mid panic attack suggests that I'm still having them more than I would like to admit.
I no longer believe that dreams are messages from God, I no longer believe in any god. I do not believe there is a life beyond this one, so no one is trying to communicate to me through my dreams. I do think that dreams are created by our subconscious thoughts, memories, and fears. The dreams that scared me as a child were planted by my fear of my mother, and the dreams that terrify me to this day were created by a very real monster. I hope that one day I will no longer feel this way, one day maybe I will sleep because I want to and not because my body cannot handle staying awake for another second. But for now, this is one of my most difficult struggles.
People claim to have insomnia, people claim to barely sleep. But I have yet to meet anyone who understands the terror of closing their eyes even though they are safe. Maybe I'm just not meeting the right people...
Funny how things work...
Nightmares have, and always will, plague my nights. You never asked about them nor comforted me even when I awoke with sunken, lost, dark, eyes. I guess it wasn’t your job, I’m just inherently flawed. It was a silent subject made to drop and be forgotten. But now you have them and you feel some of their pain.