Trazadone Nightmares

I was introduced to the sleeping medication, Trazadone, in February of this year. At first everything was alright, but my dreams started getting weirder and weirder to where I had to change to Amitriptalyne while in treatment. Once I switched, all the weird, terrifying dreams ceased almost immediately. The day I left treatment, they gave me someone else's sleep meds and I didn't notice until after I got home. I was hesitant to take them, but knew I had to have something to go to sleep.

It's taken four days for the dreams to return. This is what I can remember of last night's dream:

It started out with me in some type of group home. I don't know if it was another treatment-related home or a psych ward, but it's not important to the story. Byram comes to visit, and I leave the place in the back of her car, covered by my clothes as to not be detected. We end up at some wrestling arena/hostel combo. She and I become professional wrestlers and move into a room. This room had two king-sized beds pushed together, kinda like in Willy Wonka with the grandparents. I was a little put off by this, but I accepted it for what it was. Because I had to sleep closest to the door, that meant that the rest of the bed was filled with people sleeping next to Byram. I was less than comfortable with that. She said not to worry b/c she would never do anything to hurt me. I told her it wasn't her I was worried about. She's surrounded by a roomful of alpha males with egotism issues. I was more worried about them than anything. Things were ok for a while; all of the other folks moved out and some either midgets or kids moved in and asked how much rent was. That was really weird.

Ok, to the wrestling part. I had a meeting with the promoter who wanted to know what my gimmick was going to be. I told him I would emulate Vinnie Vegas, moveset and everything. He seemed to like the idea, so everything was set for my introduction interview with the crowd later that evening. This is where shit hit the fan.

I come back to the room and see the midgets/children pinning Byram to the bed and messing with her. I busted into the room, picked up both of them with one hand and threw them full force into the cinderblock wall. Ya know how you physically see red when you've reached the homicidal point of your anger spectrum? I was there. Before I killed them, I woke up and pretended nothing happened. I was just happy to wake up in one queen-sized bed, with only Byram and myself in it.

I told her that I had a nightmare, but I didn't go into details. I'm sure once you've all read this far that you'll understand why. Trazadone nightmares ain't nothing to fuck with...