|Me around three.|
I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here, but I suffered from night terrors as a child and - for whatever reason - never outgrew them like I was supposed to. So, basically, I still talk, shout and - occasionally - scream in my sleep. The night terrors are so scary because I'm somewhere between asleep and awake when I have them. Or, rather, I'm awake and something from the dream world still lingers. So, I know I'm in my bed. I know I am waking up. And everything is as it really is (i.e. I see my clock, hear usual house-at-night noises, feel Trevor beside me, etc.), except that, say, there is a giant spider jumping towards my head or my duvet is covered in ants or there is a scorpion on the ceiling. You know, that sort of thing. The WORST one I've ever had was when I was in graduate school and woke up to find a man with a knife standing at the foot of my bed.
Good times, right?
So I scream bloody murder, occasionally throw things (like a pillow or blanket) or jump out of bed because SPIDERS! ANTS! SCORPIONS! HOMOCIDAL MANIAC! and more or less freak everyone in the vicinity out.
Nowadays, Trev just rolls over and says in annoyed voice, "You are dreaming. There really isn't [fill in the blank] on us/over there. Just go back to sleep...no, no don't turn on the light...wait...okay, now that the light is on, do you believe me? Please turn off the light now."
The last time I shared a hotel with my father (this was YEARS ago), I had one, and his response was very similar to Trevor's: "OMG, You still have these things? You are fine. Go back to sleep!"
Even the dogs don't care anymore. There was a time Gypsy would run over and lick me in an effort to comfort/wake me. Now she just sighs and groans as she rolls over.
Clearly, no sympathy for me.
Anyway, they really aren't that big of a deal. Yes, they are freaky, but I can't remember ever NOT having dreams like these. Plus, they aren't nearly as frequent as they were when I was a kid, and seem to be triggered by things like stress and travel. They are just one of those things you get with the whole ME package. And the good news is that I'm totally fine once I turn on the light and reassure myself that whatever I thought I saw isn't really there.
(Except for the guy with the knife. Just try going back to sleep after that. I dare you.)
The thing is, Banner has started having night terrors. Which, in itself isn't that big of a deal because they are very common in childhood. But - just to be safe - I asked Banner's pediatrician about them at his three year old wellness, and he said there is a very good probability that Banner will never outgrow them either. The good doctor’s advice? “Don’t tell Banner’s significant other about the night terrors until they’ve already exchanged vows at the alter”. Trevor’s response? “Aint that the truth”.
Poor kid. Looks just like his daddy and gets all his weirdness from me.
Or, better yet, maybe we BOTH get our weirdness from MY father? Because:
|(Don't ask. I was there and I still don't understand.)|