Last night: An oral history

I’m normally an excellent, highly efficient sleeper. I fall asleep less than a minute, and I almost always open my eyes before the alarm sounds.

However, I’m also a frequent sleepwalker, and thanks to my PTSD, I can sometimes spend my nights fighting to stay alive through a series of terrifying  nightmares, which can make some nights more memorable than most.

I also herniated a disc last week on the golf course, so although I’m feeling remarkable better today, the combination of steroids and muscle relaxers have been doing a number on my brain. I’ve felt cloudy and loopy all week, which has made for some strange moments in bed as well.

Add to this two cats that somehow seem in tune with my overnight needs, and it can make for a memorable night, like last night.

Things started out fine. Elysha and I went to bed around 11:00, which is actually early for us. I’m playing golf early this morning, so I was fine with getting a little extra rest given the soreness still lingering in my back.

When I woke up for the first time, it was about 1:00 AM. I was sitting at the dining room table, staring at my computer. I was wearing boxer shorts and slippers, and there was a cold bottle of Diet Coke beside the machine. One of the books that I’m writing was open in front of me, but as far as I can tell, I had yet to add any words to the manuscript.

That’s not always the case. Sometimes I will awaken while typing mid-sentence, and once I awoke in the morning to find about 500 newly minted words of a novel, ready to go.

Sadly, I got nothing done last night, so I went back to bed, falling asleep almost immediately again. This time, I experienced a nightmare. One of those awful reoccurring ones that I’ve battled ever since I was 21 years-old.

Same scenario. Same outcome every time. I see it coming, and yet I’m never able to do anything to change it.

Somehow, the cats seem to know when I’m struggling with nightmares because they often pile atop me in the midst of my struggle, as they did last night. But before they could, I had somehow managed to extract myself from beneath the covers, so when I awoke with a start from the nightmare, I was lying atop the duvet, shivering in the air conditioning, with one cat perched in the crook of my arm, purring away, while the other was draped over my legs.

I gently nudged them aside, climbed back under the covers, and went right back to sleep as the cats resumed their previous positions.

The next time I awoke, it was a little after 3:30 AM. I was sitting on the edge of the bed. While sleepwalking, I had apparently put on my shorts and sneakers. One was tied. The other was not. I wasn’t wearing a shirt, but as I leaned over to check the time on my phone, I noticed that I had also brushed my teeth.

I’ve awoken to find myself dressed before. This wasn’t new. When I was younger and managing restaurants, I would sometimes awaken in my full uniform, sitting behind the wheel of my car in the parking lot outside my apartment, thankfully having driven nowhere.

But I don’t think I’ve ever brushed my teeth while sleepwalking before. This was a first.

I considered staying up since I planned to get out of bed around 4:30 AM anyway, but I decided that I could probably use the rest given the events of the night already, so I removed my sneakers and shorts and climbed back into bed. Elysha is also seemingly unconsciously attuned to my needs at night, so as I slid beneath the covers again, she rolled over, draped her legs and arms across me as if to say, “Don’t go anywhere this time.”

Thankfully, I didn’t. I fell asleep almost immediately, struggled with another nightmare, but remained in bed for the next hour. Just before 4:30, I awoke, wide awake and ready to go, but I found that my phone was already in my hands, my thumb perched on the power button, ready to silence the alarm if it fired off. At some point, either moments before awakening or sometime earlier than that, I had reached over and taken the phone, knowing it was nearly time to get up.

Elysha was back on her side of the bed, but the cats were back, one on either side of me, purring away.

I lay in bed for a few moments, telling myself an oral history of the night. Essentially what I have written here.

Most nights are far more peaceful than this. I sleepwalk from time to time, finding myself sitting in front of bowls of cereal, the television, an open book, but mostly just standing in a hallway or sitting in front of my computer. And yes, there are nightmares from time to time, too, but these days, they tend to happen during times of stress or fear.

Like pandemics, for example.

Injuries, medications, and triggers like films involving realistic gun violence can also bring them on in force.

Last night was one of my more active, stranger nights. The crazy thing is that when I climbed out of bed intentionally this morning, I felt great. Well rested and ready to go. Despite at least two incidents of sleepwalking, two nightmares, and who knows what else, I was excited to jump out of bed this morning and take on the day.

Thankfully, whatever parts of my brain that operate my body while I’m sleepwalking don’t seem to interfere with the parts of my brain in need of rest. I’ve often described it as having two operating systems, completely independent and unaware of each other, running at different times and on different schedules.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of nights like last night. Awakening to find sneakers on your feet or a Diet Coke in your hand is jarring and sometimes genuinely disturbing, and I would never wish my nightmares on anyone, but I’m always thrilled to open my eyes in the morning and almost always anxious to start my day, despite the turmoil experienced overnight.

It also oddly makes the day feel fuller. I end up with more experiences and memories than had I simply slept through the night.

I had adventures last night. Not terribly adventurous and not entirely wanted, but stuff happened. Enough to write about.

That ain’t so bad.