FAMILY MATTERS
Monsters more mature, but adults' nightmares still scary
By Michael C. DeMattos
It was the sudden kick to the ribs that let me know that not all was right in the DeMattos home. Roused from my sleep by the bludgeoning blow, I looked to my right and saw my daughter huddled between her mother and myself. A quick glance to the clock revealed that it was 1:10 a.m.
"What happened, honey?" I asked my daughter.
"I had a nightmare," she replied.
I walked her back to her room, put her down in her own bed and sang a little song to help her sleep.
The next morning my daughter asked if I ever had nightmares.
I told her that I did have nightmares, both as a child and as an adult. I guess the difference is the subject matter. The nightmares I had as a child were not dissimilar from those of most other children. I was sure there were monsters under the bed; I could almost feel the nails from their claws reaching for my little feet, which were neatly tucked under my blanket.
The house I grew up in had a long hallway — at least it seemed so to me — that was dark with creaky floors.
Just before bedtime, I would give my parents a kiss goodnight and run as quickly as I could down the hallway. I then climbed the ladder to the top bunk and hunkered down for the night.
The fiends from my childhood no longer haunt me. Like me, my monsters have matured; they now look more like adult anxieties and neuroses.
Just like a child, I know that most of my fears have specific triggers. A few months ago, I remember my daughter and her friends squeezing their eyes shut during the scary scene of a Disney toon. They were afraid it would cause nightmares. Sometimes when I watch TV, I do the same; I squeeze my eyes shut. But I still hear it:
"Retirement is right around the corner; have you prepared?" "Have you checked your cholesterol?" "Sudden loss of a loved one can be devastating, we can help!" "When your partner is in the mood, will you be ready?" "Someone is lurking, waiting to steal your identity, be prepared!"
I feel inundated by images of disaster, whether it is the nightly news or the commercials running between golf shots on Sunday morning. They play on our fears and then offer magical solutions.
It is enough to make you sick!
The old homeopathic physician used to say that the cure resembles the disease. This philosophy brought major breakthroughs, including inoculations for serious diseases like chicken pox. In the case of the modern person's condition, the cure doesn't resemble the disease; it is the disease. Much like the child who recognizes that most of the ghosts and goblins are the result of an overactive imagination, so too must the adult recognize that many of his/her ills are figments of the imagination, proudly sponsored by various advertisers.
I try my best to keep things in perspective; I know what conditions I really have and which are conjured by society. Still, there are times when I simply cannot sort between the real and imagined.
It is at those times when you may hear a scream and know that a 190-pound balding man is running down his own hallway, jumping under the covers and hunkering down for the night.
Family therapist Michael C. DeMattos has a master's degree in social work.
