Nightmares

Yeah... I doubt anyone's been reading this blog since the... I don't know, dozen or so hours that I started it. But if you have, you might have glanced at my About Me and seen that I said I sufffer from nightmares and what me, being the drama queen I am, believe to be hallucinations. I have since quite literally longer than I can remember, but I do remember it was when I had a white metal bed with a patchwork quilt, which was after my little sister was born but before we started sharing a room. So I was younger than five or six, I think, but older than two. I think I was two or three, but whatever, I'm rambling.

So. I have nightmares- well, I THINK I have nightmares. I actually only remember two of them. I mean, I remember more than that, but in this specific vein of nightmare it's just those two.

The nightmares aren't the actual issue, all they do is wake me up. When I wake up, I'm usually facing the wall because of how I sleep. My bed has been pressed up against the wall, in every house I've ever lived in, since I was a baby. So when I face the wall, the only thing I can see is the wall.

So I wake up in the middle of the night, from these nightmares, and I know there's this... this Eldritch Abomination thing standing beside the bed, watching me. If I turn around and see it, it'll kill me. Sometimes I imagine it's a monster (when I was a little kid), sometimes a werewolf (again, little kid), but more recently, I view the... thing as a shadow person. I guess it manifests in whatever scares me most at the time.

It happened almost every night when I was young, to the point where I didn't even scream for my parents anymore. I just lay awake, in the dark, eyes closed tight, praying I don't accidentally catch a glimpse of whatever it is that's in the room with me. Having my sister in the room didn't help, when we started sharing a room. They, whatever they are, still came.

It stopped about the time my parents broke up, with one isolated instance when I was about seven; about the time I saw a ghost, incidentally. It always happened in what's now my dad's house, never my mum's. I thought they'd stop for good.

But a little while ago it happened again, two instances in the space of three weeks, where I woke up convinced there was a shadow person watching me. The first time, there was no reason at all it might have happened. The second, I'd been reading creepypasta all night, so there's an explanation for it, I guess.

Because I'm a derp who likes scaring herself, I read about the Slenderman mythos yesterday. I don't believe in him, lemme say that. Why should I, when we can trace him back to his origins in a photo manip on the Internet? No, I don't buy into that bullshit.

Apparently my subconsious does though, because last night I convinced myself he was in my room after I woke up in the middle of the night. It was... different to the 'norm' for these waking terrors, I was kinda drifting in and out of sleep. That just made it really confusing, disorienting and awful.

But yeah. The sun came up and everything was fine, I realized I was only... I'm going to call it hallucinating, for lack of a better word. I didn't actually see anything scary, and I never have, with the exception of some tricks of the light in my mirror, but I convince myself that they are actually there. I don't look because I know, somehow, they'll kill me if I do. These things I dream up weren't meant to be seen by human eyes.

This probably doesn't make sense to anyone reading. It's hard to explain, I guess. I've lived with it for so long, and kept it a secret a lot, I don't really know how to put it into words.
I guess I sound crazy now. Oh well.

x Ellie