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I've been suffering nightmares again.

Last week, I woke up with bedbug bites on all my ankles and on the bottom of my right foot. I was really upset, because I thought we'd done it. I thought we beat them. We've beaten them before. I thought we did it this time. I dragged the cursed couch out to the curb, but it got stuck for a very long time right between the exit and our bedroom door. I fear that may have been the drop-off point.

Then again, maybe I got lucky and it was only one. I found one really fat bug crawling on top of Charles's blanket. I popped it between my fingers (and a tissue) and it splat out my blood. It still had my blood in it from its feeding, the fucker. I stripped the bed and thoroughly examined the mattress etc, and got a bunch of spray. I met someone who personally had excellent results in killing them with rubbing alcohol, so I got a bunch of bottles of that and have been pumping it through a spray bottle all around my bed and any other offending areas. No more bites after that first set (so far).

Aside from generally experiencing phantom itches all the time, especially at night, I've started suffering nightmares again. I was sure it was completely related to the bugs, but as of last night, I'm not sure. The first dreams involved an infestation - my favourite sweater had them all over. I woke up only to see corner infestations, just swarms of red, pulsating heaps of bugs, just by closing my eyes.

Then I graduated to waking nightmares, which I do have often, when I'm really stressed. I had my first afternoon nightmare ever, at the end of a nap in which I thought I'd gotten no rest (which is why I decided to get up in the first place). When I looked at the wall, I saw a blurry mass about the size of a quarter on the wall next to me. I sat up and it started moving. I couldn't see legs; it was just... sliding up the wall like it was a b-movie monster bug being pulled by a string. My first thought was, maybe it's a house centipede, but it's round. My next thought was it was a group of bedbugs huddling en masse to bombard the bed. I immediately reached for my glasses to see it, but when I looked back, there was no sign of anything there. I looked down the gap between the bed and the wall, I looked on the pillows half hanging off the bed. Nothing. I was so freaked out! I grabbed the alcohol spray and started going nuts, emptying the whole bottle onto the pillows, sheets, blankets, wall, and floor. I was so scared, I couldn't get out of the bed. I was terrified of this nightmare bug! I didn't leave the bed until Charles came home and he convinced me it was just one of my waking nightmares.

I had another one last night, at about 2 or 3 in the morning.

This was different. I felt very paranoid about this one. It involved my lighter falling onto the pillows beside me. I had a huge mound of pillows, and the lighter was slowly slipping, threatening to fall off the edge of the bed. I started to grab it, when I realized I don't have this many pillows, and then it all disappeared. I freaked out about this, complete with a mental break where I cried and clawed at my hair, screaming that it's always the same dream, and that something is trying to get me to fall for it - something wants me to grab the lighter!

I woke up Charles during my freak-out and he wasn't very supportive about it, having had very little sleep lately. As I lay there trying to get back to sleep, I told him I had to tell my psychic mom about the bowl (I remember there was someone with a yellow bowl) because that's been in all of the dreams.

In the morning, I remembered everything, because I studied my memories of the dream as I fell back to sleep, so as to recall every important detail for my mom. But upon examining my memories of it, I have no fucking clue why I thought I always have that dream. I've never had that dream before, and I certainly have no clue why I would have a waking nightmare about a damn lighter falling off the bed.

It felt like Twin Peaks, in Fire Walk With Me, when Laura saw a dead girl talking next to her in bed, and she was calm, but saw a ring in the palm of her hand, and she flipped the fuck out!

I don't know what I'm so stressed about. Maybe Brian? Maybe the bugs? I've been diligently spraying around and on the bed several times a day for several days. And I had Brian over for a movie, and he got a little weird, but then things calmed down. We sat on the floor where the couch used to be. He had his bag which, last time I saw it, I had to spray the shit out of due to it being infested (though despite that, I hadn't gotten any new bites). Maybe it's a combination of both. Maybe I'm freaked out about my life and my goals spiraling away...

Who the damn hell knows.