Putting this in my blog so I remember.
My night’s sleep broke up into two parts. The first I started on the wedge. The second I decided to sleep off the wedge.
With wedge: as previous nights, dreams without my parents. Especially without my father.
Without wedge: woke up in cold sweat from nightmare involving my father and never having left him. I can still see his face and mannerisms now very, very clearly. I can still remember the constant fear (hmm, it’s still there. Have Busiprone, maybe a Xanax in a bit). It didn’t get to the strangling point, but now I remember it….
It’ll fade, but I am shaken.
Part of me says, “Well, DUH.”
I apparently will be working late into a Friday night. Coming in late ((And this is where all my understanding managers come in. I had one who didn’t believe in PTSD. Um. Fun times.)) after a shaky nightmare does that. I have yet to decide whether some of my vivid nightmares are PTSD episodes that happen during that Seuss-like time when the brain is busy making associations and filing memories. Seems like it could be a trigger house of fun.
Yes, I will always use my wedge from now on.