About five o’clock one morning last week I was woken by strange noises outside. Rattling and thumping, high-pitched whistling, a kind of roaring which ebbed and flowed in irregular bursts. The storm forecast earlier had arrived. Nothing like the Great Storm of 1987 which reached over 130mph gusts; no, a small seedling of maybe 50/60mph, which would soon blow itself out. The UK rarely suffers more than the tail end of the hurricanes other parts of the world experience, but even little puffs like these are enough to shake our house which sits in the mouth of a funnel formed by the river valley. The noise kept me in that state between sleep and waking, neither one nor the other, the helpless state, where irrational fears easily get a foothold.
Suddenly I was engulfed by terror. I saw the road I was to drive in the morning as an insurmountable obstacle course, the many twists and turns across some very minor hills filled with danger. There is a short stretch of road called the gander’s neck, rather narrow, the bends tight and close together, which always requires the driver’s full attention. I saw myself entering the first bend, coming up against storm broken trees blocking the road and being unable to turn back. One side of the gander’s neck falls steeply off into the valley below and on the other side the hillside rises equally steeply. I was swept into helpless imagination of every detail of the road like a film before me, the damaged trees, the narrow road, my car slewed sideways, other cars about to crash into me. Frantically I worked out what to do. Leave the car, walk back to the beginning of the curve, put up a hazard sign? Wave down other drivers? My heart was pounding, I was literally paralysed by anxiety, lying there in my warm and comfortable bed.
Forcing myself to come fully awake I got up, switched on the lights, had a drink of water, went to the bathroom, told myself not to be silly. Nothing worked, my pulse raced and afraid of going back to bed still in the grip of this irrational anxiety I popped a Lorazepam from my secret stash.
This is a nothing story about a non-event but driving that road for real later that same day the night-time fear was still hanging around and I drove more carefully than at any other time.
Everything seems so horribly real at five in the morning !
ReplyDeleteSometimes I feel I can't break free of a nightmare. You described the road so well. A Lorazepam every now and then is helpful.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Our small fears become irrational giants at night. I do not know why, but by daylight they usually seem manageable. Driving carefully was a wise approach, and who knows, maybe some god or spirit was trying to reach you.
ReplyDelete"The helpless state" in which one can only catastrophize is one I have made myself an expert in; As in: an expert in surviving and surmounting it. Sounds like you are a worthy colleague. Thanks for posting this gem without wrestling it artificially into a "useful" sale-able self-help product.
ReplyDeleteALOHA from Honolulu
ComfortSpiral
<3
I do believe *Fear* is the ultimate enemy... where-ever or how-ever it surfaces.
ReplyDeleteSometimes a pill does the trick!
ReplyDeleteI know that fear, I know that anxiety. Medication helps till the next time.
ReplyDeleteThe dreamt upon fears can awaken us with a fierce reality, can't they? Glad you did what was needed and got home safely, Friko.
ReplyDeleteThe anxiety prompted you to drive extra carefully the next day, perhaps avoiding an accident. I am glad you found your pill in your secret stash to help push the anxiety away.
ReplyDeleteAnd here am I, awake and typing at 1:15am, just having had an anxiety dream myself. It will take a while for the adrenalin to go away, and yes, thank the lucky stars above for pharmaceuticals!
ReplyDeleteI hate nights like that. Sometimes I think the anxiety is a part of menopause. I never had it before that came along.
ReplyDelete"/
Hello,
ReplyDeleteWe can totally empathise with this
Irrational or not, fear is simply that and, sometimes, it will not go away unaided. But, driving more carefully is a good thing, especially on those winding countryside roads.
The Great Storm of 1987 is one if those events that one remembers for all time. We can recall exactly where we were and suspect that many others could too. No sleep that night!
I can totally empathize with you on this. Just last week we took my son to the airport in Manchester and just before falling asleep -- or trying to fall asleep, I had these thoughts of the car being in a terrible accident on the way. In fact the roads were clear and there were no mishaps or near misses, but I was still glad when we got back home in one piece.
ReplyDeleteMaybe your dream kept you from having a bad event on the road. Interesting how some of these thoughts can put you in a state!
ReplyDeleteAnxiety's a strange thing. When I went through the traumatic evacuation for Hurricane Rite with my mother and the cat, I don't remember being anxious or frightened. If anything, it was simply a teeth-gritting, "we're going to get through this" kind of experience. But when I started writing the third part of my story of Indianola, the Texas town wiped off the map by not one but two hurricanes, it all came back. Making myself delve into the records has been hard, not because of what happened to them,but because of what happened to me (and a couple of million others).
ReplyDeleteI wonder if there's such a thing as retrospective anxiety, or residual anxiety?
You're reminded me of my mother, too. I called her the World Champion What-iffer. She generated her own anxiety by asking. "What if...?" I once left her speechless, by asking, "What if nothing happens?" That was a high point, let me tell you!
I don't generally suffer from anxiety and I don't believe I've ever had a panic attack. The closest I come to anxiety is when I have an installation and I took the initial measurements for the glass. Did I get it right? Is it gonna fit? Is the client going to be happy?
ReplyDeleteSometimes dreams are so very real you can't shake them for a while. But you may have needed to drive extra carefully that day and it was a good thing...a forewarning. :)
ReplyDeleteGlad you made it back.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you experienced “hypnagogia.” The threshold consciousness that can be experienced in half awake half asleep mental states or “waking dreams.” Nothing to worry about, it’s quite normal and it’s not “fear” just mental.
ReplyDeleteAll through my childhood, I was very much afraid by storms. Even the slightest sound of wind picking up (nowhere near strom strength) had me scared, really scared. I remember how I kept repeating one line of the evening prayer I had made up for myself (more a conversation than a formal prayer); it said "Lieber Gott, bitte mach, dass es windstill ist und bleibt."
ReplyDeleteNowadays, this may seem rididulous, but I was very serious back then. And when I heard the bus go past our house at night, I felt instantly calmer, thinking "it can't be that bad if the bus is still running".
These narrow windy one track hilly roads are a nightmare in themselves when the weather is a bit iffy. We have to go to RSH in the morning and I know exactly what you mean.
ReplyDeletepy, those dreams do carry over to the next time we find ourselves on that road....
ReplyDeleteit makes it all too real....
I think of these as the "middle-of-the-night scaries." And because of your experience, you drove very carefully the next day. That is always a plus, since we tend to get on autopilot unless something reminds us not to.
ReplyDeleteThank God for Lorazapam. I've been know to take half of one or even a fourth of one in the middle of the night. If I took an entire pill, I'd never be able to get up and drive that scary road the next morning. I understand exactly what you were going through. When the heart gets to racing, it begins to flutter and stop and start, and you know what that means: Afib. I'm sorry you had a night like you did. I'm glad the trip was a safe one.
ReplyDeleteGeeesh.. I do the same thing to myself every now and then. Our minds can terrorize us at night. And once the heart gets pounding there's little that can be done to calm it... except for that secret stash. I hope you're sleeping better tonight.
ReplyDeleteI think I would feel the same, I hate strong winds and storms, ever since we had a one with 200 km/h which broke two of our trees which fell on the street ! I had to drive to work through the woods and couldn't get through so many trees had fallen down and even had killed 3 people. When the wind whistles around the house I am feeling bad !
ReplyDeleteThat "middle-of-the-night loss of perspective" is a strange one. I wonder what it is about being awake, or half-awake in the dead of night that makes small worries, normally easily dismissible with a few salient and persuasive facts or a stern self-talking-to suddenly so completely absorbing. Is it some mental state that takes hold at night, as when actually asleep, and disables parts of the brain normally awake and interjecting with reason (in the way for instance it is impossible to read in dreams because that part of the brain is deactivated during sleep). Or is it sheer lack of other sources of perspective and loss of rational bearings? And does everyone get this or are some people inherently "sensible" and hence immune. I remember 1987. I had been in my first house less than a month and getting used to home ownership fast. I learned a lot about how to replace ridge tiles that next morning.
ReplyDeleteFriko, I agree that The Night can be a powerful influence.
ReplyDeleteMay I again tell you how glad I am that we were able to meet on a rainy windy day in Shropshire. I am very appreciative of your making that drive that day.
xo
An excellent description of the night terrors that affect us all as we age.
ReplyDeleteWhy is it only the bad dreams stay with us when we wake up!?
ReplyDeleteI remember that road and how I imagined that it would be a scary ride in winter.
ReplyDeleteI've read that we often work things out at night, in our dreams. Perhaps that was what your dream was meant to do.
Oh, the blessings and the curse of a vivid imagination! I'm glad the road was better than the scenario you conjured up!
ReplyDeleteFrom the land of high snow drifts n ice - what a nightmare. I am not sure what a Lorazepam is, but I think something to allow you to relax and be calmer or perhaps a sleeping pill. I shall check this out. I am now thinking of the song "Help Me Make It Through The Night". I am also thinking - "Lorazepam" did just that. I've had the odd nightmare or two in my lifetime and its a terrible fright, when you wake up from one. Have a wonderful day.
ReplyDeleteAnytime I see your name pop up in my post feed, I know where I'm visiting first. Wonderful writing and recounting. You know, a non-event can still be a big event! (Nearly ten years after we spun in circles on the highway on a certain overpass in the pouring rain, I still clutch every time I approach it and don't relax till I'm back on the straight. Stuff like that hangs with a person!)
ReplyDeleteStorms seem to be getting bigger and more powerful, or is it just my imagination?
ReplyDelete