Season 0, Episode 4: Nightmares and Ruminations

The tail end of my scream fades as my eyes open. I reach my hand up to yank my sleep mask off my eyes. Working on muscle memory, my arm shoots up and finds the switch to turn on the lamp. Soft yellow light spreads across the room.

Without my screaming, the nighttime silence returns. I look at my watch. 4:01. I should be upset that I have to wake up for work in less than two hours, but I’m not. My heart is pounding, my breath shaky. My hand twitches as I lower it back to the bed. There is an uncomfortable tightness in my chest and back.

The nightmare is still vivid in my mind. Betrayal, hurt, fights. Monstrous creatures and shifting shadows. A man in a heart costume. A new lover, lost. I’m trapped, stuck in place as the creatures approach from all sides. All I could do was scream.

I need to come back to this world, the one that I think is real. I text a friend, knowing she might be awake, but not really caring if I get a response. I just need to know that she exists. That this world outside of my nightmare exists. Then, maybe, I can believe that safety exists too.

I climb out of bed and shuffle to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I fill my bottle with fresh, cold water. I take a long drink. The cool soothes my nerves and calms my racing mind.

Returning to bed, I grab my phone and open a note to write down everything I can remember from the nightmare. I know it will be important later. One image sticks out the most. The man in the heart costume, silhouetted by moonlight and watching through the fog.

---

This is one of the worst ways to start a day. I did end up getting another hour of sleep, but even that was restless and disturbed. It’s put my brain on the back foot since I woke up.

I did succeed in making tea this morning. I did not, however, succeed in making good tea. Watered-down gen mai cha is better than no tea at all, but is still disappointing.

A list of other things I did not succeed at today:

• Putting my rings on before work
• Bringing a stuffed animal to class, which I do every day
• Not getting red expo marker on my light blue shirt
• Keeping the students on track and not having side conversations

How can one little nightmare offset a day this much? Are there days chosen for us, by some malevolent (or perhaps ambivalent) force, where we simply must be inconvenienced? If I knew the answers to these questions, I doubt I’d be writing this.

---

February is an odd month. The stagnancy of winter and the jolt of spring seem to be intermingling, creating both urgency and slowness. The students are restless, the weather erratic, and my bones uncertain.

While that nightmare did throw me off, it was not an entirely bad day. Here are some other things I have succeeded at in the past few days:

• Facilitating very difficult class conversations around gender, identity, intersectionality, and self-diagnosis
• Preparing delicious foods
• Connecting with people that I love
• Standing up for myself and giving myself space

We’re halfway through this month already, and every day grow closer to sitting firmly in springtime. Then summer, autumn, and winter again. I have a feeling it will be February 2025 sooner than I’d like.

Taking time to identify these little things can help slow it down, so time doesn’t pass quite as quickly for me. It’s also a part of reminding myself that, even on days when I wake up screaming at 4:01, I can still do hard things.