Sometimes I stop breathing in my sleep. Sometimes I dream I’m under water and can’t make it to the surface. Other times, I’m in a car that’s filling with water or being crushed under mountains of steel. I usually realize I’m dreaming by that point and scream to myself, “Wake up! Wake up!” The other night, I did not realize I was dreaming, and I could not wake up. In that moment, I thought about how the last decade had been very difficult, and I started to cry about everything, gasping for air. Then a man came over to me, and started speaking calmly, “You’re having a panic attack. I’m a doctor. Breath into this mask, here.” He counted with me, and told me things would be okay again, and that it was oxygen coming out of the mask, though I’m not sure what it smelled like–very chemical-ly, plastic-ky.
(To anyone who may be reading this, yes, I will ask the doctor about sleep apnea.)
Another one of those dreams I cannot forget.