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Night Terrors
Mar. 11th, 2009 08:51 amForgot to post today's picture this morning.
Sorry.
Was up most of the night with the Mouse. Mixed nightmares and night terrors.
I was up with her three separate times, from 2, 3 then 4 AM last night. Last time, it was clearly a night terror. Her eyes weren’t even open, but she was sitting straight up in bed. It hurt my heart. I didn’t want her to inherit my night terrors. And it’s purely a physical response thing. There’s no dreaming. I was able to get her back to bed and when I went in to say goodbye this morning, she was resting well.
I may be exhausted, but I’m glad I did it. I used to have the same nightmares and terrors and no one ever came in to comfort me. I would scream and cry for a long time and no one would come. I remember one night particularly where I was so terrified, that I eventually grabbed all my stuffies and pulled the covers over my head, crying into my pillow, curled into the smallest, tightest ball I could make with my body, hoping nothing would get me. I was four. The Mouse’s age. It's one of my most vivid early memories.
I’m glad my Mouse knows I’ll come and comfort her. But it makes me hate my mother even more. At that age, she was separated from my father. We lived alone in Fremont.
If you don't have a sleep disorder or know someone with one, it's hard to describe. My night terrors spawned my insomnia. It took me years to overcome. I still have the occasional screaming night terror. The first one my poor husband ever experienced scared the crap out of him, I'm pretty sure. They suck in every way that you can imagine. Sweat, pounding heart in the chest, just terror and no reason for it. Full adrenal flight response.
I only eventually got help from a pediatrician who correctly diagnosed what was going on with me when I was a teenager. Taught me how to meditate. Amusingly enough, the pediatrician was a beautiful Hindu woman who wore a variety of hot pink saris under her doctor's coat. Seriously. She poked me in the shoulders with her fingers and said, "These are not supposed to be hard." I wish I could remember her name.
I'm hopeful that the Mouse won't suffer like I did. I'm teaching her what that long ago doctor taught me. She does yoga with me. Her Down Dog is pretty awesome. She knows how to do Pranayama. Apparently, now I get to teach her how to meditate before bed. Let go of the day, so her body doesn't betray her like it currently is. Teach her that sleep is safe. Teach her that nothing can get her, not while I'm one room away.
So.
Namaste, Doc. Thank you again for those long ago lessons. Hopefully they'll save my little girl the hardship I went through.
Thank you.
Sorry.
Was up most of the night with the Mouse. Mixed nightmares and night terrors.
I was up with her three separate times, from 2, 3 then 4 AM last night. Last time, it was clearly a night terror. Her eyes weren’t even open, but she was sitting straight up in bed. It hurt my heart. I didn’t want her to inherit my night terrors. And it’s purely a physical response thing. There’s no dreaming. I was able to get her back to bed and when I went in to say goodbye this morning, she was resting well.
I may be exhausted, but I’m glad I did it. I used to have the same nightmares and terrors and no one ever came in to comfort me. I would scream and cry for a long time and no one would come. I remember one night particularly where I was so terrified, that I eventually grabbed all my stuffies and pulled the covers over my head, crying into my pillow, curled into the smallest, tightest ball I could make with my body, hoping nothing would get me. I was four. The Mouse’s age. It's one of my most vivid early memories.
I’m glad my Mouse knows I’ll come and comfort her. But it makes me hate my mother even more. At that age, she was separated from my father. We lived alone in Fremont.
If you don't have a sleep disorder or know someone with one, it's hard to describe. My night terrors spawned my insomnia. It took me years to overcome. I still have the occasional screaming night terror. The first one my poor husband ever experienced scared the crap out of him, I'm pretty sure. They suck in every way that you can imagine. Sweat, pounding heart in the chest, just terror and no reason for it. Full adrenal flight response.
I only eventually got help from a pediatrician who correctly diagnosed what was going on with me when I was a teenager. Taught me how to meditate. Amusingly enough, the pediatrician was a beautiful Hindu woman who wore a variety of hot pink saris under her doctor's coat. Seriously. She poked me in the shoulders with her fingers and said, "These are not supposed to be hard." I wish I could remember her name.
I'm hopeful that the Mouse won't suffer like I did. I'm teaching her what that long ago doctor taught me. She does yoga with me. Her Down Dog is pretty awesome. She knows how to do Pranayama. Apparently, now I get to teach her how to meditate before bed. Let go of the day, so her body doesn't betray her like it currently is. Teach her that sleep is safe. Teach her that nothing can get her, not while I'm one room away.
So.
Namaste, Doc. Thank you again for those long ago lessons. Hopefully they'll save my little girl the hardship I went through.
Thank you.
