Escaping Midnight Haunts: my story

"The Lord will protect you from all evil. He will keep your soul." Psalm 121:7

I am about to talk about a bizarre-o topic, and you may seriously start to question my brain processes, but I want to share this with you, because surely there is someone like me out there who has suffered from the same sort of torment I have. You can be rescued.

Sometimes dreams can be funny or lovely. Other times they make you not want to fall asleep, for fear of what may come.

Of all people, my friend Natalie knows of my wacked out dreams the best. We're not talking I was being chased by a purple people eater while wearing a tutu on the beach. I'm talking people straight up trying to kill me in my dreams. People that I know. I have had dreams of being pursued my viscous animals, of haunting demonic beings seeking me out, of being hung naked from the limb of a tree to die. I have drowned in my dreams, I have died in my dreams, I have been in car crashes, been buried in icy avalanches, and watched people I love take their last breath in front of me. In my dreams wolves and dogs have chewed on my arm, men have molested me, and fear has paralyzed me so much that I cannot even yell for help. It's not exactly the REM cycle people look forward to.

I have had these wacked out dreams for as long as I can remember. I used to have a reoccurring dream that I cannot even describe as anything but terrible since age six. I lived with it for years and years. Just when I thought it was gone, it would come back to haunt me as a college student sleeping in my extra long dorm room bed.

You're probably like "Joelle, lay off the mushroom consumption." I never understood where these terrible nightmares came from, because it's not like anything in real life like that ever happened to me. But I dreamt it so often it started to feel like reality. My own brain was not a safe place at night.

In February of 2011, I started to take non-prescription sleep pills because my job was stressing me out so much that I would wake up at 3am from a frightful dream of battling children who were foaming at the mouth. The pills helped me stay asleep, and they eased some of the intense dreams, but I was still getting chased on a nightly basis.

It was then that I decided to do a bit of dream research to figure out how I could control my dreams. I did things like speak into a voice recorder as soon as I woke up, and I would tell myself as much as I could about the dreams I remembered in order to improve lucidity. I tried all sorts of tricks to be able to distinguish between reality and my dream state, kind of like how Leonardo DiCaprio had that spinning top in the movie Inception.

I would pray before bed, I would read my Bible before going to sleep, but nothing worked. Then I tried something else. I found a very short verse about being protected by God, and I would say it over and over and over in my head while waiting for slumber. My goal was to have it so ingrained in my memory that I would think to say it in my dreams when I was being chased or under attack.

I read another strategy on-line about how you should confront the thing that is after you and ask it why it is trying to hurt you. I had no idea how I would make that happen, because who could  subconsciously remember to confront the enemy in a dream, when my most natural instinct was to get away or hide?

Is this taking it too far? Am I getting too weird for you? Drawing by Kaless Aradan.

As I continued with the audio narratives of the dreams that I remembered, and as I committed to memory Psalm 121:7, I tried really hard to attempt a dream confrontation.

One night it finally happened. I won't get into all of the details, but I finally was able to not be paralyzed, to be able to speak, and I yelled "Why are you after me? What do you want from me?" The people trying to kill me had nothing to say. They turned and left.

I woke up and was like "WHOA, DID THAT REALLY HAPPEN?" My bad dreams had never resulted in an ending like that. Usually I died or drowned, or I woke up from the nightmare. Never ever had the pursuer left me alone.

I felt really good that day, like I had won a battle, even if it had been in my subconscious mind.

Then came the first time I was able to recite scripture during a bad dream. I was in a dark cavern, being pursued by a band of creepy men, when I realized that what I should do is say my verse. One of the men got close to me and I shouted in his face THE LORD WILL PROTECT ME FROM ALL EVIL. HE WILL KEEP MY SOUL! I shouted it over and over, and then I stepped into a beautiful place where there was no one but me. I was safe.

Since those first times of confronting my midnight haunts, I have said Psalm 121:7 many times in my dreams. A few months after my "breakthrough" the dreams that threatened my life stopped.

I think what was the most important was that I believed in my awake state that if I said a Bible verse in my sleep, that it would save me. And what was important while I was dreaming was that I remembered the words to the verse.

I have funny dreams now. Or happy dreams. I still have some really weird dreams, but no one has tried to kill me in them. I am not fleeing from the haunts of my hippocampus.

So if you are a person who has terrible dreams where you are in danger of death or physical pain, I highly recommend that you memorize Psalm 121:7 and say it over and over before you go to bed. It has been my battle weapon, and it has never failed to rescue me from danger.

We are under Satan's attack even when we are sleeping, but more importantly, God is with us and protecting us, even in our dreams.

The Lord will protect me from all evil. He will keep my soul.

A moment of Inception

I'm sitting on the couch in the living room and my sister Jess is with me. She starts to get up and go to the hallway. I say to her, "Hey, Jess. What if this is all a dream, like the movie Inception?"
She says to me, "Yeah, but it's not."
I agree with her. "I know. When I'm dreaming, everything is not normal at all. Either my vision is blurred, or weird animals chase me, or I'm flying. So I know when I'm in a dream."
Jess nods and I go back to studying for both tests I have tomorrow (Math and Spanish). Before I know it, I start to get sleepy and I doze off.

Quite soon, I start to fly around. And wouldn't you know it, someone needs rescuing. They always do. I'm only ever the one person who can fly, so when something is chasing me and whomever I'm with, I've got to pick them up and fly with them, which is not easy. It takes a lot more strength and concentration to fly when you are carrying somebody. And geez, we're always getting chased.

Pretty soon we get to the main street going down the college campus, and we've stopped flying. For some reason a ton of police cars and ambulances drive by, and we can't cross the road. Then we get half way across the road and I see why there was such a commotion. Someone has a gun. And it's pointed right at me. But this is a dream, where everything just gets worse. Suddenly I cannot even more. I try really hard to move me feet, but I can't.

Then my eyes pop open. I've been dreaming. I knew that. Then when I see how dark it is, I think "Oh crap! I fell asleep and didn't study for my tests!" I look to see what time it is. 5:15am. I realize that wait a minute, I actually went to bed on purpose. I'm supposed to be sleeping. Then I think a second longer. I do not have a math or Spanish test tomorrow. I am a teacher. I teach school.

Next I have a shocking realization. All of that before part where I was in the living room talking normally to my sister was all a dream. And the part where I was flying was a dream within a dream. As I am really awake, I think more about the first dream. I was at my old house that I grew up in, and no one lives there now. So obviously that wasn't real. I was studying for a high school math and Spanish test, and I'm no longer in high school. I totally thought that all of that was real, because it was so normal, but it wasn't. It was all pretend.

This freaks me out, because usually when I think about "Is this a dream?" I'm able to recognize that yes, it is a dream. Because weird sh*t happens. And I just know.

I fall back to sleep but continue to enter dreams. This time, I know it. For example, when the shadow of a relative is about to attack me when I'm flying, I pop my eyes open in real life just as they get to me. Saved myself from that one. But I am so sleepy that I instantly fall back into a dream state. My enemy is gone, but I'm still flying. I'm wearing a nightgown and I'm flying vertically into the sky like a rocket, which is weird, because I typically fly horizontally (no wing flapping necessary). I'm in the dark sky which is dotted with stars, and the moon is glowing bright. My nightgown flies up into my face and my bare skin begins to catch the breeze. I get cold and pop my eyes open in real life. That ended. But it wasn't so bad.

When I awoke for the last time this morning at 7:02, I started to think about all the snippets of dreams that I could remember from the past eight hours. I remember a rodeo, and a tunnel, a theater, saving a girl, listening to a concert, rain at a wedding, the forest of my old house, retrieving a secret file and throwing it up in the sky towards a vortex...

I realize that I am going to have to become one of those hippy weirdos who drink strange juices and tell people about their dreams on the radio. I've got to go to the library and read every dream book I can get my hands on. Because I need to be able to control this. I do not like the way that 98% of my dreams go, because I am always being chased by something evil. Yes, I enjoy the flying part, but it's not worth it. So I am setting out on a mission to figure out my subconscious. The mind is a miraculous thing. Surely this can be tapped.

If you have any sort of advice, please share. I mean, where's Leonardo DiCaprio when you need him? And Ellen Page, will you please build my dream?

I've already read a few things on-line, and apparently that spinning top thing that happened in Inception isn't totally bunk. I read about how you need to train you brain up, and ask yourself when you are awake "Is this a dream?" and then instead of saying "duh, no it's not," you are supposed to check a clock quickly, then check it again. Or you read some text real fast, and then look at it again. Apparently if you do this often enough (which makes you a weirdo, questioning reality and what not), then you will begin to do this in your dream. In the dream, when you check the clock the second time, allegedly a large chunk of time always passes, so you know it's a dream. Or if you read the text a second time, the words change. I'm going to try this. So next time you see me, you can say "hey Joelle, is this a dream?" and you can watch how I respond.

Obviously I need a psychotherapist. Aren'tcha glad you know me?

Lucid Dreaming

This is kind of a weird post, but that's what you get for clicking on something that mentions dreaming. Next time you'll know better.

Some people keep a dream journal where they write down the dreams they had while they were sleeping. The idea is that if you write it down, you'll remember things more clearly and you will get better at recalling your dreams. I thought about doing this, but I have realized that I'd really rather not remember my dreams.

Awhile ago, my friend Natalie pointed out to me that maybe the reason I'm tired all the time (even though I get 8 hours of sleep) is because my dreams are not very restful. Example: in the past seven days I remembered three of my dreams. In one of them, a humanistic wolf was trying to eat me and my family. He climbed up onto my roof, and I finally stabbed him with a knife I found. Freak you out a bit? Yeah, me too.

In another one of my dreams, a relative of mine was trying to murder me by running me over. A few nights ago, I had a dream that the father of one of my students was chasing me around this sketchy hotel/US bank/church because I knew of a crime he committed. And I had to run down like, eight flights of stairs super fast. Plus, at the very end of my dream there were fire ants in my mouth. But you wanna know what's weird? It's not like this father was creepy in real life or did anything I knew about, but four days after I had the dream, the kid told me at school that once his dad had been in prison. Which just goes to show you that I have an excellent subconscious and it is really good at identifying felons.

Basically, every time I fall asleep I have to run for my life. I don't know why I keep dreaming these things, because no one has ever tried to hurt me in actual life. It's not like when I was six years old I had to hide from a crazed lunatic trying to kill me or something. So I don't know why I keep dreaming these things. I wish it would stop.

I read about how if you want to dream about a certain thing, you really need to think about it and concentrate on it a lot before falling asleep. I've done this a few times and it has worked once or twice. I feel like I need to go to the library and check out some dream books or something, because I am tired of running for my life in my dreams.

Tonight I'm gonna think Channing Tatum, Channing Tatum, Channing Tatum.

I changed my mind

During the fall I wrote On Proposals, where I shared with you a story about myself in college, and how I thought it was silly to have a dream proposal, because like it would actually happen.

Then I had an epiphany.

If I am ever able to convince someone to fall in love with me, then I have an idea for a proposal that would make my head spin.

Maybe the lucky guy and I are poking our noses around in vintage shops or something, and he's like "Hey, Joelle, what's that over there?" And we walk over to an old wooden desk, and sitting on top of the old wooden desk is this typewriter:

And there is a page stuck in the typewriter, and written out on the paper is a single line which reads:

And sitting on top of one of the vintage keys is an Edwardian style diamond ring, similar to this:

 And the lucky guy falls to one knee and tells me,

"You are the only one I've ever loved. Will you marry me?"

Of course I say yes. And then I ask:

"Do I get to keep the typewriter, too?"

My Soul is Sore

So I had this dream...Wait right there. I know what you're thinking. Is Joelle really going to tell me all about the wacko dream she had last night where she was flying and then met James Franco on top of the Sphinx in Egypt? But he turned out to be someone from high school instead? No. I'm not. I'm merely giving you some background information, mainly so you know that I was in my subconscious.

This is what happens: I'm dreaming, and in my dream I have to do a bunch of sit ups and push ups. And then I finish and I'm sitting up, and someone (very handsome who will remain anonymous) puts his arm around me and asks "Are your arms sore?" What I do is cuddle up next to him and say "No. My soul is sore." Which is pretty much true, but I'm a bit surprised that my subconscious would come up with something like this. I mean, I'm asleep.

I dream a bit more and there's some ice, a dead body, a cardboard box, and a truck involved (sounds eerie but it really wasn't because previously mentioned handsome person was hugging me for most of it). Then I wake up and think.

My soul is sore.

Just like how my arms get sore after lifting when I either a) start lifting more weight or b) haven't lifted in a while, my soul gets a work out when a) the burden begins to weigh more or b) I haven't had to deal with stuff for a while.

My soul is sore.

I suppose I should look at this positively, because it means I'm actually working my soul out. It's not sitting around, eating puffy Cheetos and becoming flab. Here's the thing about being sore: you feel weak and your body aches for a time, but when you try lifting the burden again, you'll find you've gotten stronger after your recovery. Sore souls mean strengthened souls. I mean, don't they?

But here's where I'm at: the aching stage. I'm not in recovery. I am not strong. Though I will hopefully get there some day.