A Billion Times Told

April 2013
My brain has been hurting all day.  I spent the night with my mom last night and I forgot to take my meds out there.  I had the worst nightmares.  The kind where I get tortured for hours upon hours.  The kind where somehow my brain connects with my physical body and I can feel every single pain caused by the demons in my dreams.  I think I am moving and thrashing to get free, I think I am waking up over and over because I am begging God to wake up. I am walking through a room of severed heads. Fudging thing is I have seen so much shit in my dreams, that severed heads don’t scare me. I keep walking through them.  I hear a voice that tells me to trust him and walk towards his voice.  It is dark.  The voice says trust me, I am God. I say God why do you do this to me?  The voice says, I have been trying to get your attention and this is the only way it works.  I have told you this in your dreams, a billion times.  And then I don’t know what I was told.  In my dream I think I need to trust this voice.  I am told that I need to focus on God and stop writing this book. I am told this book will change my life. I am told I have 119 days to live, so I try to figure that out based on it being April 2nd, which is the day I thought it was…that’s sometime before my one year birthday.  Then I am being tortured again.  They tell me I can’t have you…and they call you my precious ”Raposey Wosey"  I don’t know where the hell that comes from in my psyche, because I have never called you that.  Shortly after begging to wake up, time after time…I finally wake up and hear Samuel breathing next to me, and know that I am really awake this time.  I breathe…because this fear has happened in my dreams so much I know what to do.  On the nights my kids turn on me in my dreams…I always pray that I will know the real from my dreams.  Samuel used to show up right next to my bed in the middle of the night...it would scare the shit out of me.  God give me control over this fear!  So I woke up at 3 am this morning my muscles tight, not breathing, I am stiff as a board.  I have had sleep studies done, because I have sleep apnea. As in, my oxygen lowers to unsafe levels at night.  They told me it was because of my weight I stopped breathing at night.  They ran two sleep studies on me over night at Billings Clinic.  I don’t wear the head gear because, I know that I stop breathing because of fear, not because of my deviated septum or weight.  So I am wide awake for about an hour.  I got up got drinks of water and smoked a cigarette.  I really didn’t want to try to sleep again. I was trying to figure out what I am suppose to figure out from this nightmare?  Am I suppose to stop writing to you?  I don’t want to.  I go back to sleep and have a very vivid weird dream, not as scary.  I wake up in the morning my head hurts worse than a hangover.  I can’t function.  I know that dream was not of GOD.  It was a demonic dream, like all my nightmares.  I trust that I am doing the right thing by writing you.  I just trust that God would never do that to me.  It is all the devil and what I have let him do to my soul.  I am going to take my medication tonight because two nights like that can fudge up my life.  I just want them to go away.  I have had them ever since smoking pot when I was a teenager.  They are horrible.  AND I never learn anything from them.  I always think since they are reoccurring that I am suppose to learn something…but then I wake up and its all fudging gone.  I never learn, so why don’t they stop?  The last day I worked at American Eagle I had a night like that.  I couldn’t handle being there, so I said fudge this job for good.  Fudging nightmares.  I pray about them all the time.  I want relief.  This shit, this is why I don’t even watch previews for scary movies.  I just can’t.  Fudge all these paranormal movies…I live them at night.  The last scary movie I let myself watch was the Ring in 2003.  I said never again.  In the movie theater and all the creepy shit they subject people to, I will cover my eyes, turn away and try to shut off my ears.  I hate being afraid in reality.  I don’t need it.  I try not to get scared at night when I am alone.  I used to hate sleeping alone at night.  Because of the trauma I have gone through because of this, I leave the fear with the dream.  If I didn’t I would never be able to sleep alone in my house.