Haunting Childhood Nightmares

Ever since I could remember I have had vivid violent nightmares that will haunt me for weeks. I've grown up avoiding gory movies, I see enough gore in my sleep. And those movie makers can't come close to my nightmares as far as looking real goes.

The first nightmare I can remember having, that has forever burnt itself into my memory, happened when I was about 4. In my nightmare I woke from my sleep and went to my parents room to find them hacked into pieces in their bed. Someone grabbed me from behind and carried me into the garage where a work van was hiding. I was thrown into the back where 2 men sat amongst all my stuffed animals. The van began to leave my home and the men began cutting open my stuffed animals and blood came pouring out of them. They began pouring the blood all over me as I screamed and cried.

I woke to hear my Mother screaming. My head was at the foot of my bed and my bed was covered in spots of pink vomit from the head to the foot. My Dad rushed in and had determined that it wasn't blood like my Mom thought it was. They picked their brains trying to figure out what the pink came from, what did I eat? It was never determined.

There had been times I woke from my nightmares in cold sweats, speaking in gibberish or possibly another actual language. There was a nightmare I couldn't wake from. In the nightmare I could only see people from their chest down, but from their chest up I could see my room, and I was trying to yell out for my parents to wake me up. When I finally did wake I had a terrible headache.

The most substantial nightmare I had as a child took place when I was 7. For whatever reason I wanted to sleep with my parents this particular night. Might I point out that I was NOT in the habit of sleeping in Mommy and Daddy's bed. I had a nightmare that a bat was diving at me and I guess I was swinging away at my parents in my sleep. They had to wake me from my nightmare. Then we all went back to sleep. But they woke me again, my Mom pulling me behind her running out of the room so my Dad could catch the bat that was actually in the room!

You would think from that incident alone my parents would have come to terms with the fact that there was something going on with me. But they dismissed it like always.