Nightmares - keeping me alive!

I woke up at 4:34AM this morning. And this is how I felt.

..

My body trembling, my mouth dry, and with this taste of metal that goes with dry mouth. My body hurts, especially my calves. I don´t know why my calves hurt, it makes no sense. 

The panic has stuck as a physical tension in my belly. I am really hot, but not sweat. I am dry. I find myself laying on top of the cover on my bed, something that is a strange thing to do in Norway in December, especially when you sleep with your window open as I do.

I recall my nightmare. 

...

 

The mobile crane is the biggest I ever saw. It comes driving slowly down hill. The truck itself is dark violet, and the crane and all the crane parts are in bright yellow, almost like a lemon. I point towards it, showing it to my brothers, who seems busy reading. The crane comes closer, and I notice asking myself why it is moving while the lifter and weights and all the other parts of it is in place. Now, this may seem like a non-logical question to you, unless you know how these huge mobile cranes are moved. 

Due to their masses, and weight, these cranes are transported in pieces. They lift off the counterweights, as well as the rig. And more or less everything else, leaving only the truck itself. 

Not so in my dream. As I showed it to my son (my brothers had left at this stage), I could explain to him in detail all the different parts, and how they would normally have transported this crane using at least twelve semi trucks. To him, eight years old, the number really did not make any sense, but to you it may. This was not only a dreamt up number, this is the number of trucks used when I was lucky enough to take part in such a moving last year. 

Suddenly the air is filled with noise. Noise of heavy engines, metal screaming and people yelling. I am on the working lot where the mobile crane is to be mounted for work. The crane operator is there too, running around, and so is someone I recognize as someone I like very much, still I am not able to fix his face nor remember his name. Could be an old, lost friend. My son is no longer around, and I am dressed in working habit.

One of the support legs are moving in place, far above my head. It seems to be working all by itself, knowing what to do, and where to push it´s leg into the dirt. 

My long lost friend (in lack of a better name) knows exactly what to do too, and seems very knowledgeable when he takes off a huge, black and bended tube from it´s storage on the body of the truck and move away with it. The piece he lifts is bigger than him, and I see he is really working with it. 

I move along the crane, walking in full height underneath it. In the dream, this was natural, just like the huge pipe of exhaust my friend was carrying in the previous paragraph. 

At this point, the sound is really high. The sound is like a machine, possibly a steam punk machine, making hammering noise in perfect rhythm. A hard hit and then a soft hit. A small break, then a hard hit and a soft hit. The sound reassemble the sound of hoisting a big metal chain through a metal hole - just like the chain holding the anchor of a ship. I am still underneath the mobile crane, the sound comes from right above my head. 

In front of me, I watch this black part moving. It could be a support for balance, except this one is much smaller than the one previously mentioned. This one is not bigger than I am. The leg is vertical, tubular and with a circular plate welded horizontally at the bottom. As the leg moves downwards towards the ground, I realize that it is pinning me down. I more feel than see the extended leg above myself, pushing down on my back. I must be laying on the ground at this point. 

The hydraulic system don´t even seem to notice the slightly higher pressure needed to pin me down, as it forces the leg to touch the ground. 

...

This is when I wake up. Warm and dry. Frightened. A normal morning I would not have remembered the dream, and just noticed that I had yet another bad night before rolling over and trying to get some more sleep. 

Not so today. My body is still filled with the immense fright caused by being pressed to death. I am still scared, the tension in my belly is still as strong as when I woke up. And that is 40 minutes ago as I write this.

I know. This is my mind, and possibly my body, dealing with my accident. Showing me that things may not be so easily digested, even though it have seemed fine so far. 

I have slept badly since the accident. Usually waking up (more or less) around four, and not being able to sleep again until around six. I do not know why it is like this, but it certainly drains me. Sometimes I am forced to sleep a in the afternoon, especially when my day has been rough. And rough may be normal things like a meeting. Attending meetings where I have to focus is bound to re-bounce as headache and exhaustion in the afternoon. Giving a training still requires me to take the day off afterwords, so I can recharge and grow my energy back. 

People around me tell me that it has only been a little longer than three months now. And I cannot argue that. Still, I am impatient. I want my old self back. I want to be able to focus, concentrate, be energetic and caring, and to do the things I love doing. Without the need of a day or two of rest every time. 

And I am scared. What if I have to relive the accident every night? What if I will never again sleep one full night without waking up? Me, the guy who needed a minimum of eight hours sleep every night if I was to be able to do anything at all. 

I embrace life. I love every second of it. I enjoy every second too. I feel love, I feel life, and I feel like I am on the right track. The funniest thing is that I know that I will be perfectly capable of living my life to the fullest - even if I am to live the rest of my days waking up in fear, waking up dying as I did today. Despite of my fear, and my body filled with post traumatic stress and pain, I am happy. 

Scared or not - I am happy to live. I´ll go downstairs and have a cup of tea now.