As a kid I feared going to sleep because of nightmares. One that recurred often when I was nine had me stumbling up three flights of stairs to our fourth floor apartment. I was pursued by an amorphous dark grey smoky mass which I feared would swallow me up.
It floated up the steps, but it seemed to keep pace with me. I arrived at my door and pounded on it, calling mom, but my voice came out a squeak. There was no answer. I searched my pockets for my door key as the mass gained on me. I dropped the key and fumbled around, finally getting the door unlocked just as the gray hulk reached for my legs.
I flung open the door, dashed in, slammed and locked it, leaning against it to catch my breath. Looking down, I saw the smoky thing oozing under the door and ran into my bedroom, slamming that door, too. The blob crawled under the bedroom door and began invading the bed I climbed on for safety. I screamed. The scream woke me. It also woke my mother. She wiped my sweating head and palms and soothed my terror.

Childhood Nightmares
Finally, mom suggested before I fell asleep each night I should keep saying “It’s only a dream.” over and over until I was asleep. I did that, and fell asleep faster than usual. Three weeks or so later, the nightmare recurred.
As I reached the landing of my apartment, I suddenly turned to the oozing mass and shouted, “It’s only a dream, You are only a dream,” and it evaporated.
I never had that nightmare again. When others occurred, the mantra “It’s only a dream” often awakened me.
Many years later I realized the dream was caused by a derelict who attempted to grab me on my way home from school. He grasped my thigh, and put his hand on my prematurely developing breast. I was petrified, horrified, finally pulled away and pushed him hard. He stumbled. I ran home, wondering what I did to cause him to do that. I never said anything about it. Only remembered years later when a homeless man approached me, and I saw him as a shapeless grey mass.
My family had many paranormal experiences, including ghosts, invisible walls saving lives, seeing houses that weren’t there, and more. I wrote a book IMAGICS and other family stories about some of these events – fictionalizing all but the last story, in which my father’s ghost returned home a few hours after he died. I changed family members’ names to protect the guilty and expanded on actual events in most stories. After all, writing’s a matter of taking some truth and asking yourself “What if…”
I’m always amazed by how our imaginations and dreams contort reality to send us coded messages from our deepest feelings. I literally write what I know, as was suggested to me years ago.

Francine Trevens, Guest Blogging about Overcoming Nightmares
Francine L. Trevens
Author of nine books, three prize winners and dozens of articles.
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About Ressurrection
Ressurrection Graves is a Child Sexual Abuse Grooming Expert and H.E.A.L.E.R. (Healer, Educator, Activist, Life Skills Expert, Empowerment Speaker, Relationship Mentor)
Her website reaches readership in 188 countries. She is available for national speaking engagements, radio and television interviews. She can be reached at: 202.717.7377 or send your request to: ressurrection dot wordpress at yahoo dot com or comment on http://www.ressurrection.wordpress.com