Left alone

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I woke up feeling like I had been biting my tongue again. It's not like it hurt, but I could tell that there had been some pressure applied to it. My jaw muscles slightly burning from the effort of gently and yet still firmly holding my tongue in place. This has been happening for some time.
When I don't bite my tongue in my sleep I will wake myself up talking. My mouth usually awkwardly tired as if I have been talking in away it's not used to. Am I talking in a language foreign to me in my sleep? What that means is enough for my to learn to sleep-bite my tongue.
I had a dream where my ancestors were in the dessert pointing to the horizon and telling me something. I can't hear it because they are so far away. I try to move closer and the landscape moves past but they float a narrow millimeter above the sand and move away from me at the same speed I moved towards them. They are always the same distance away, mouthing the same words, and pointing towards the same horizon. Cactus block the early morning light that will soon turn to dawn and I am stuck on this dessert plain between these mountains trying to catch up to anything.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I went to my computer which is what I do when stressed out. I begin looking through files for something to do and start cleaning up the old stuff. I came across an folder called "the other half" and I don't remember putting a folder here. I open the folder and find twelve files. Twelve .jpgs obviously meant to be backgrounds but not cropped quite right. I look through them and find these things that I don't remember making. I don't remember being able to draw? like this. I can't remember when I made them so I check the file info.
They were made a few weeks ago. One per day always at 3:00am. I can feel panic rising. I look at my hands and feet like they are not my own. The floor feels like jell-o. I collapse.
When I wake up my shoes are wet and I feel like I changed somehow.