The strangest thing this morning: I woke up remembering a nightmare I’d had last night. But I didn’t remember waking up during the nightmare.
It was like I’d had the nightmare in my sleep, but instead of waking up, I had gone on to sleep until morning
Right this moment, I can scarcely believe how bad it was.
Maybe — just maybe — the worse of my life. I’m 61.
I know my heart beat so hard last night during the nightmare, I thought it would break a rib. I thought someone was banging on a coffin, and I was in it.
What was it about, you ask?
It was this: I dreamed I had met an Australian woman named Teresums about a year ago. A woman who had become this blog’s editorial assistant, and then — then she had begun tormenting me, really tormenting me, night and day. A demon!
But suddenly this morning when I was thinking about it, it all became clear: I had it all wrong! This morning, I was NOT remembering a nightmare. I was remembering my life over the past year.