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Night´s Child

Writer's picture: Enna RazalEnna Razal

Updated: Oct 30, 2024

I am a vivid dreamer and oftentimes my dreams are nothing other but "fantastic". Strange things may happen as much as impressively acrobatic ones. Things full of motion, richness in colour and characters, environment, sound, and creativity. Flying appears to be a huge theme, too. The following blurb, however, approaches the shady side of dreams - nightmares. Only in the past year, as I was reviewing every aspect of myself, I discovered that having frequent, very theme-bound nightmares is not normal but is considered a consequence of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The finding was jaw-dropping. Like: Ok... this is a possible reason? I never thought... I was a good sleeper for most of my life. Those dreams had always been there... They were a part of me. I had never known differently. Oh!


Audio cover
20241029_Razal_Nights Child

water colour art in blue, yellow, green. Abstract art
Abstract art painted with watercolour by the fourteen-year-old me.
 

My little child, I noticed that you were afraid last night…


You woke up at three, and this was surprisingly not forced by the urge to pee, but driven by the tales and mares that only darkness understands to tell. By darkness, well I like to refer to sleep. The sweep from conscious to unconscious states.


The stuff that happens outside of daylight reception. The mingling of neurons that form new connection. Patterns of brain activity that can lead straight into some form of personal cruelty.


My little child, of course, does not care about the science behind the matter of dreams. It does not know that her dream reality, in fact, is not how it all seems. That her screams, the demons of her night, the fights between her parents, and alike are a form of reprocessing energy. Not cruelty but her brain´s attempt to make sense of the present and past. To view and review. To free the brain of memories that it doesn´t wish to last.


And… my little child is right about the meaning of the night. Nightmares have been our companions for as long as we can remember. From when we were tiny and slender to our adult age – the hours of the night always were our very personal cage.


First, we did not understand. Did not comprehend why these dreams occurred. Then, as we grew, we ignored or became bored by the ever-available stew of violent stories. Nonetheless, we were affected, and it was not to be neglected that we avoided reading thrillers and watching exciting movies.


Because who would need such entertainment, when the brain at night causes deeper and more viscous delight?


abstract art in ocre brown, red, yellow, watercolour
No matter day or night: my reality is all colours but black and white.

By now, many years have passed. Years that have made the mares last as an ever-recurring past. 34 years that are, to be precise, of neuronal content that is as much abusing as confusing. And I admit: those years they have had their price, not to mention that the overall night-time experience wasn´t in any way nice.


Oh, little child! Only slowly do I get to understand your patterns, and hear a voice formerly unheard. Notice the screams in your dreams, and feelings unfelt. All that darkness, all this is fear that must not be. But to escape the demons we cannot continue to flee. I realised that I have to stand still at will and face the themes of my dreams. We have to look right into the demon´s eye whilst avoiding to out loud cry.


Deep inside, there happens an enduring fight. Because: I am angry and enraged at those human people who have put me into the nightmare´s cage. The call for revenge resides within my chest. Yet, I am doing my best to outgrow the urge and soothe the pounding heart of the little child. To not go wild but remain calm. To disarm the demon´s mightiness and power. To lower their grip around my body and brain. To leave the realm of violence and shame.


Instead, I seek to glimpse a first peak at what could be. The free me. A human who finds peace in her nights, who dreams but not screams. Whose nervous system is not upset but met in its need for security and safety.


Yes, my little child – we can be freed of those demons. One day, we may indeed meet our needs. I am still learning, forgive me, how to not shrink and be brave. How to behave when the demons appear. When I wished both of us weren´t at all here but somewhere out there, traveling to a tropical island paradise. Where it certainly would not be so frightening but rather nice.


To face, to stand still, to process, to bear, and not fear. This is a scary challenge and nothing for the faint-hearted. And too, it seems that stopping the nightmares cannot be out-smarted. The demons of dreams wish to be felt, to be experienced, and let go. All this is a massive big flow.

A forceful stream. My little child, to put a hold on those dreams, I apologise, for that I have not yet found a solution. I have not yet managed to outgrow or learn how to swim in the strange waters of your traumatic tales or mesmerising nightly mare.


But I wish to say, that I have come to dare notice your fear and I strongly believe together we can bear to approach the task. To ask the demons to leave, and to go out for a final debrief. To accept the help of others, like-minded sisters and brothers. A group of people, perhaps, who understand, not judge but comprehend.


We are so close. I sense the change. My little child, our lonely nights have been all too wild. But… soon enough we will be free.


Believe. Me.


water colour, abstract art, landscape
The brain, its dreams, and its creativity intrigue me. At any age, I have always seen the stuff dreams and thoughts are made of as "mysterious". Like gazing at the stars at night and thinking about the essence of life during the days...

 

My texts seek to inspire. They however do not replace medical advice and/or the inductive observation of your own organic mind-body-soul system. Something to keep in mind. :)





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