The dreams are violent—not against me, but against the people I love most. My hands reach out in the dream, but I can’t move fast enough. I’m far away and can’t find my car keys. I shout, but my voice doesn’t work. Always, I’m trapped, watching helplessly, as if my worst fear is to be a witness instead of a protector.

When I finally snap awake (usually around 3 a.m. or so), the terror lingers heavy in my chest. Heart pounding, sleep-dress soaked, breaths shallow, every nerve screaming. The room is silent, yet my mind is anything but. It replays those images, then leaps to real-world worries: deadlines, arguments, mistakes I can’t undo, disasters that haven’t yet happened but feel inevitable.

I tell myself, "Keep calm, go back to sleep, and do not pick up your phone!" But the harder I chase calm, the louder my brain insists on spinning and the more the phone's siren song sings.

The ancient Stoics warned us about the trap of wrestling with what’s beyond our control. And strangely enough, their advice has become the one hack that actually quiets my midnight terrors.

There’s a reason our thoughts feel more dangerous at night.........

© Psychology Today