Night Terror

The battles I have do not compare to nightmares. I have a specific demon that tries to break my soul. This demon is probably self-created. Let me say that in another way. My demon has a name, Col. DeBarge. This was a real person. I killed him in 1978 and my mind has given him life ever since. There was a point in time that I was not quite sure if the Colonel was dead. I was, and still am being haunted by this demon. If he is not of God, then he is of Satan. Therefore, he is my demon. God would not put me through this much torment for this long. That is why I am convinced he is a demon. This is no where near the nightmares that I spoke of, earlier. I have been told by the professionals that he is a creation of my sub-conscious. I, being filled with guilt and shame, am trying to punish myself because no one else did. I kept this secret for over twenty-five years. I am the reason that the colonel is dead and I have been punishing myself since that time. It is hard for me to understand that I have created something filled with so much evil. I have been terrorized by him in ways that no one should have to go through, and yet, I am being told that he is my creation. Why would I put myself through all this? That is the hardest for me to understand. Why can I not make him stop? I do not enjoy putting my wife through the horror of his evilness. She sometimes wakes up to a blood curling scream and has to spend time calming me down. She has escorted me through the house, room to room, making sure we are alone. She, at times, has to unlock and re lock each door in the house for my benefit. She has wiped my brow to rid my body of the sweat generated during my meetings with him in another world, whispering in my ear like a small child that heard something go boom in the night. She has seen the terror, been a part of it. She did not ask for any of this. I am being told that the terror is coming from myself. I am the creator of this demon that causes havoc in my house in the dark of the night. I must be hallucinating when I am face to face with his death mask. This is what the professionals are telling me. It is hard for me to believe. I will go to bed not even thinking of the colonel and several hours later will be awoke by a door slamming. I'll get up out of my bed to see where the noise came from and meet him in the middle of the night. I am not dreaming when I get out of my bed. My reality will change or I will cross into another plane of consciousness. It is not possible for us both to exist in the same world. So, I must cross into his world. What if I cannot make it back into my world? Is that how people vanish from the face of the earth? So far, I have been able to get back into my world. Will a day come that the celestial door slams in my face and my existence on this earth is over? I do not have that answer. I wish that I knew for sure.     theblogmeister