"The dreams are violent-not against me, but against the people I love most. My hands reach out in the dream, but I can't move fast enough. I'm far away and can't find my car keys. I shout, but my voice doesn't work. Always, I'm trapped, watching helplessly, as if my worst fear is to be a witness instead of a protector."
"When I finally snap awake (usually around 3 a.m. or so), the terror lingers heavy in my chest. Heart pounding, sleep-dress soaked, breaths shallow, every nerve screaming. The room is silent, yet my mind is anything but. It replays those images, then leaps to real-world worries: deadlines, arguments, mistakes I can't undo, disasters that haven't yet happened but feel inevitable."
"There's a reason our thoughts feel more dangerous at night. Neuroscientists have shown that during the early morning hours, the brain's prefrontal cortex-the rational, decision-making part of the brain-dials down its activity. Meanwhile, the amygdala, our emotional alarm system, ramps up. The result is a brain that's less logical and more reactive, quick to magnify small worries into looming threats."
Nighttime brain chemistry and circuitry amplify perceived threats by reducing prefrontal cortex activity while heightening amygdala reactivity, and increased cortisol and adrenaline fuel panic. Nighttime panic often shifts from dream imagery to real-world worries that feel inevitable. Fighting to force calm or reaching for a phone intensifies the spiraling. The Stoic dichotomy of control provides a practical framework: separate controllable actions from uncontrollable outcomes. Writing worries down and sorting responsibilities weakens their power and reduces false responsibility. Sovereignty over thought—choosing responses rather than demanding silence—serves as the Stoic cure for sleepless anxiety.
Read at Psychology Today
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