It was Beltane season, and time for a party. It went well: I gifted friends plates for their upcoming wedding, friends raved over the ginger honey cake, and the last guests returned home the next morning. There was an awkward phone call from my ex-husband, and earlier that day I’d been beset by dizziness after attempting a Chi Gung video, but otherwise the night went smoothly. I brought out the sage bundle as I always did after these parties. People have a wonderful time, I see to it, but they also leave residual energy behind, and I just wanted to restore the balance of my home back to an oasis. I even made sure I got my walk-through closet in the process.
I dropped to sleep fast enough given the condition I’d developed that left me in near-constant pain. My dreams were strange. Even when under stress, I rarely have nightmares, but this was different. I found myself at an altar, facing a man I’d been spending time with, and hearing bitter laughter about the “false bridegroom.” It became strange, a dream wherein I was to be a sacrifice – my life wasn’t in danger, but something much more precious was. I actually tried to wake up, and after a few false stars of layers within dreams, I did actually wake up, and found myself momentarily pinned to the bed as a red-eyed cloud with teeth laughed threateningly over me.
I have never had sleep paralysis – not before, not since. I’ve also slept “clean” since college – no hypnagogic incidents with sleepwalking and minimal sleep talking. When I don’t have someone disrupting my sleep on a regular basis like I did in childhood, I’m prone to minimal incident.
I called my friend and told him I’d had a nightmare. But after that, I was suspicious of him, and I became suspicious of my ex after that, too.