I Dreamt About An Old Me.

Last night I dreamed about asthma. It’s been years—college really—that I have had a major attack of any sort. But last night I had several severe dreams about it; one so bad that I woke up and went to see if I had any meds just in case. There is a part of me that thinks the weather is triggering is small attacks and that I haven’t noticed it yet. There’s another part of me that wonders what would cause such flashbacks to such a painful time in my life.

When I was younger I would have lots of attacks—I had everything from inhalers and pills to the big scary bag inhaler that looked like a respirator. And we were never sure what would cause them; it wasn’t until college and they went away that we realized that my mom’s house had several huge factors with the dust and being on the wetlands with all the moisture.

The most vivid memory I have is of an attack my junior year of high school. I was at home and just writing a short story when I felt the attack come on. I remember going into the living room where my dad and brother were watching a Bruins game. They barely looked up when I came in and I started to cry because the attack was so bad and even the inhaler wasn’t working and I was terrified I was going to die. I blacked out and the next I remember I was in bed—my dad had done nothing and just put me in my room.

And ever since then I get paranoid that I’ll have another attack like that. One so huge that everything will just go blurry and stop and there will be nothing I can do to prevent it. But every so often I forget and then I have dreams.

They scare the hell out of me. I wish I knew where they came from. And why.