The call came at 4:56 a.m. It was a painful groan coming from my father." I can't wake her up!" I hurriedly woke my wife and told her to get her clothes on. She could see the fear and pain in my face. No more words were needed. This was the call we had been dreading, yet expecting. My dad lives less than a mile from us and we were there in minutes. I ran to the back door, rushing through, and saw my dad leaning over my mom, who appeared to be sleeping on the couch. He was on his knees cradling my mom's head, pulling it against his chest. He heard me coming in the door and slowly stood. When he was standing he turned.The yell came from someone else, it seemed. I jerked up in my bed, soaking wet with sweat. My heart beating in rapid progression against my chest. My fist clenched. I began to sob. Painfully. I was experiencing another symptom of my illness, PTSD. Nightmares. The reality had actually occurred on march, 30 2007. My mother passed away. This time when my dad turned to face me what I saw was the Colonel. A syringe in his right hand and wearing an evil grin that grew into a snarl. That is when I awoke. The colonel has become my demon, once again. When I awake from these nightmares my body reacts as if the events in my dream are real. In my sub-conscious mind they are as real as the keys on this keyboard. I have no control when I sleep. I have begun to fear sleep. Avoid sleep. Pray. With all of man's medicines, machines and treatment protocols. It seems that with all I am offered there is nothing that can rid my mind of that day in 1978. One decision that has altered the course of my life, forever.
I go to sleep at night and wonder if he will return. He has been haunting me for over 30 years. I call him a demon. A demon of my own making, yet I have no control over Him. He waits until my conscious mind is at rest. He is a coward. Powerful. He owns my sub-conscious. He has yet to show himself while I am awake. I wonder how I am able to tame Him while I am awake. The doctors say I am suffering from PTSD but they cannot tame Him, either. All the group therapy and medicine they give me only seems to increase His power. I am the demon. Only when I sleep. You would not recognize that I have a Demon inside my head. I am amiable, easy going, fun. What lurks in the dark corners of my sub-conscious is anything but. It has to be evil. I cannot conceive it being good. Has the power it contains eternal? I cannot answer that question. Sometimes I feel the power growing. Other times meek. It is always there, waiting for sleep to overcome me. PTSD is His name. Will I ever have restful sleep? I will not give up. theblogmeister