Demons in Dreamland
2026-01-17
Today has been a tiring day. I'm too tired to even write, but I still feel the need to drag myself to my computer and get my words in. There's this sense that I can come here and start to figure myself out, my feelings, and what exactly is on my mind. Despite this seemingly beneficial impulse, there's another part of myself that's saying, "Don't write, don't write," as if to say that there's something I need to conceal. I have an idea what that thing is, but I don't want to open that can of worms just yet.
I've been a bit thrown off from my routine these last few days. I haven't been doing my rituals at the same times, but instead kept delaying them. It feels like I'm losing steam. The schedule has been harder to maintain. I don't know exactly what I need to do so that I can legitimately rest and reset. I've been making some progress with my CPAP, but I still don't sleep with it the full night. I still get about two hours in and fling it off my face in my sleep. I still don't fully trust it. My sleep is fractured, and so my body is screaming at me, telling me that I need to sleep.
Once every two weeks or so, I have a day where I just sleep the entire time. I accrue sleep debt despite going to bed at a reasonable time. Every night, I wake up multiple times from some kind of dream or nightmare. The world of my dreams is so vastly different from this one. The rules there are completely other. Sometimes I think I gain fascinating metaphysical insights, but then I wake up and become disenchanted again. In many of my nightmares, I am harassed by demons. They instill a deep fear in me that I can't explain. I feel it while I'm awake too.
Today feels like it should be a day to sleep it all off, but I hate that I feel this way. I wish I could feel better—be better. I am constantly frustrated with myself and all of my ailments. I look healthy on the outside, but inside is a total shit show and no matter what I do, people won't be able to see it. It makes me feel alone, even though I know I'm not. I have a hard time fighting that illusion.
Everything seems like an illusion. I don't know what's real, especially since my psychotic episode in 2020 that led to my bipolar diagnosis. Life feels increasingly difficult to navigate because I can't be sure of my own thought patterns. I can't trust myself to know what's right, not after that betrayal. Every day I question my existence. I question the fabric of reality itself because to me, it's not there anymore and I don't know how to get it back.
I've been able to ground myself with my faith. Knowing that Christ has everything taken care of, even when I can't feel it, is reassuring. I have to remind myself that I can always rest on that, even when the demons try to convince me I can't. I wish that I knew how to properly invoke my guardian angel or patron saint. I know that with my recent return to church, I can seek those answers. I feel that I need them now more than ever. Recently, I began praying to the holy archangel Michael for protection against those demons. On nights I haven't done it, the demons harass me.
I know that I can't logically come to the conclusion that praying to Michael protects me from dream demons, but these affairs are not inherently logical.
You don't reason with demons.
There are other things I want to discuss, particularly regarding certain metaphysical theories I have surrounding my dreams. However, I also know that I can't articulate them without sounding unhinged, so I'll try to work through it a different way. I hope that I can find someone I can trust to speak with on these matters. There's a vespers service at church this evening. I want to talk to a priest as soon as I can, but I also want to be wise, show restraint, and not rush the issue.
Thinking about these kinds of things makes me swell with emotion, so much that I want nothing more but to cry. Crying is a good thing. When I'm alone, I often find myself thinking about things that trigger a stream of tears. My nerves jolt and my entire body tingles, overwhelmed by the electricity of emotion. The tears just flow out and I can do nothing but just let them swell.
Sometimes I can feel a good friend holding me in their arms when it happens.