Conquering Nightmares: Anxiety and Sleep Solutions

Raging Anxiety For No Reason?

A nightmare too horrific to recount—A spectre straight out of the darkest horror movie, which I hate, because they terrify me—played out in my head. I woke up shaking, sweating, heart racing, the shadows in the corners of my room suddenly alive with fear. So, lights on. Checked my surroundings. No visible monsters. All in my head, they tell me. No shit, Sherlock.

Does the anxiety trigger the disturbing images, or do the images trigger the anxiety?

I’d been feeling on edge all evening, even though I’d watched some benign B-movie chick flick to wind down. Maybe post-weekend blues? But then came the elephant on my chest. The invisible fist crushing my heart. That hot wave of dread and panic. I tried my breathing exercises—slow inhale, long exhale—but there was no let-up.

Eventually, I passed out from exhaustion. Only to be dragged into a horror movie of the sort that would make Stephen King himself recoil. So yeah, it’s fair to say the suffocating anxiety came before the nightmare.

Now it’s 3 a.m. I’m writing this while the adrenaline still pulses. Hoping writing will help me settle back into my body and bring sleep. But I’m still anxious. Still scared the nightmare is crouched behind my eyelids, ready to pounce the moment I drift off. Ha ha? No, not funny. I wish I weren’t alone right now. A little oxytocin would work wonders.

Is that the issue? That we live in a world of singles DEVOID of human contact?

We’re designed to need others. Oxytocin—some call it the cuddle hormone. I call it the hug drug. It just sounds better. Rolls off the tongue. Happy families have it in abundance and it flows naturally. It’s the wonderful hormone that comes in waves of deep contentment. A warm, satisfying glow permeates every nerve. Soothing every synapse and neuron. A feeling of complete calm. Safety without price. But I’m procrastinating. I need to sleep. Hopefully the paracetamol kicks in soon.

If you’re reading this and you know exactly what I’m talking about, I want you to know—you’re not broken. You’re not going crazy. These kinds of nights? They come from somewhere. Trauma leaves echoes. Our bodies remember, even when our minds try to forget.

Here are a few things that sometimes help me (and might help you too):

5-4-3-2-1 grounding – Name 5 things you can see, 4 you can touch, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, 1 you can taste.

Cold water on wrists or a frozen orange – Oddly helpful to snap the body back into the now.

Breathing in for 4, holding for 7, out for 8 – Slows the heart when panic takes over.

Whispering to yourself – “You’re safe now. It’s over. You survived.”

These aren’t cures. Just threads to hold onto when it feels like the darkness might swallow you whole.

If this sounds like your experience, please comment below. Whether you’ve found something that helps or you just need to say “me too,” your voice matters here. I mean that.

And if you’re in a really bad place right now, please consider reaching out to someone—a friend, a text line, a crisis service. You deserve support. Even at 3 a.m. Especially at 3 a.m.

Goodnight. I hope sleep comes gently for both of us.