The Thing About Nightmares and Depression

"Have you ever had really bad nightmares?"

I was asked this on a night out with friends. We discuss everything and anything on our nights out; from the new Lego Batman movie to rugby, work, books and overseas trips. Not unusually, the conversation ended up at sleep paralysis, and in turn, nightmares.

There are many ways to answer this question - a simple yes/no, a joke about how my excessive watching of true crime documentaries means I have no fear anymore, or heck, even the truth.

But I clammed up. I thought about answering. I thought about lying. I thought about answering honestly and frankly. I thought about telling them of how real my nightmares have felt. I thought about telling them about the nights I lay sleepless, too afraid to sleep. Or of the worst nightmare of them all. Of feeling trapped and suffocating and unable to wake up. Of recalling your nightmare in the middle of the day and freezing with the reminder of that real pain you felt. Or the days when it felt like I was still asleep and living through those nightmares. Of how my depressive nightmares are very different to my medicated nightmares.
About how I don't have night terrors of that severity anymore unless I forget to take my medication.

But that would involve bringing up my medication, and in the process my mental illness. Reminding everyone that I'm not quite okay. That I'm still not 'normal'.

In the end I choked on my answer. I swallowed it back down and said nothing.

I've discussed depression-induced nightmares on the blog before. It's not a new topic for me. But sometimes, when it comes to opening up in person, I clam up. I can't say the thing that stigmatizes me. That makes you look differently at me. That reminds you I am the same person who writes about their mental health online.

But then the next night I did forget my medication. I fell asleep without swallowing my two tablets which keep me sedated, pupils dilated, and sane. My routine is to take my tablets an hour before bed, fall asleep on cue and sleep throughout the night. I wake up groggy, always, but rested enough to get through the day.

But not on Saturday night. There's something about my dreams when I forget my medication. They're vivid, more real. I can recall them as soon as I wake up, like they've just happened. And they trap me. There is always a moment when I try to wake up. I can't open my eyes. It becomes a fight. I struggle to wake up but I'm trapped. I become fearful as I try to wake up. I panic.
And when I do wake up, I feel physically sick. I'm disorientated. And I can't tell the difference between reality and what just happened in my head. It's scary. I have no words to describe how scary these nightmares are because there is nothing quite as scary for me to compare them to. They keep me up at night and prevent me from waking.

Yes, I have had really bad nightmares. But I take medication to keep them away.

Night Terrors

Everyone has dreams, I know that. But the dreams I'm writing about today, if you could call them that, only come in the midst of depressive episodes. They're something I have experienced over the years, so I decided to explore them in depth during Embrace Your Past month.

Waking up exhausted after many disturbing dreams is a common experience for many depressed people. I've never understood why this happens every time my mental health is at a low, so I've decided to not only do some research into it but also describe what it feels like for others. 

Back in 2012 I wrote this piece on what happens when I go to sleep. I can remember the time vividly. I was afraid to go to bed at night. Nightmares persisted for weeks and I could get no release. Emotionally and physically I was drained. And so I turned to my journal:

My dreams have all turned to nightmares. Every night I am confronted by at least two visions of lives and futures that I do not want. Throughout the day they slowly come back to me, triggered by words, images and sounds. By night time I am filled with fear; Fear of the sketched pieces of a memory I can’t quite put back together. Fear of whats to come when I fall asleep again. What sticks in my mind is the need to escape. I spend the entire night trying to break free from my sleep, to wake up. This is the reason why every time I wake up I am filled with relief. I am aware that I was scared, but I can’t quite recall why. To confront death and destitution every single night in your sleep is exhausting.  I wake up tired. I cannot recall the last time that I slept soundly, feeling safe. I live in fear of my own mind and the places that it takes me when I can’t control my thoughts. I am lost and lonely every time I fall asleep. I can never reach my goal. I can never escape and reach you. The world ends.