Saturday, March 11, 2006

 

"dare to dream"

I used to have a lot of bad dreams, especially concentrated during sophomore and junior years. They ran the gamut, including gems such as Osama BL shooting my mom (after I accused him of being a coward...whoops), witnessing a helicopter piloted by a guy I knew crashing on campus, and hordes of ants swarming my bed.

I'd wake up disturbed and distraught, then go to bed the next night dreading what may come - after describing for friends in endless detail what had "happened." One week, after four nights of terror in a row, I laid there in the dark, dreading what was to come. I remember I woke up in the morning and thanked God for a non-bad dream.

It got so bad at one point that I decided to see the on-campus therapist, at the urging of friends and loved ones. I went to the therapist, and it was immediately apparent that I was low on their "important to see" totem pole - after ascertaining that my bad dreams weren't rooted in an angst-ridden childhood, I went from being a "must-see" to a "we'll see her next week."

Which was fine, because after two visits, the bad dreams went away. Or did not go away, but at least died down. I've noticed that they come about in times of stress...sophomore and junior year were very stressful times due to extracurricular activities. I also tend to walk in my sleep more when I'm stressed, waking up embarrassed, realizing that I'm halfway to the living room.

Or like last week, when I yelled E's name, because I thought was trapped under my bed. C-note came running in, and apparently I told her that everything would be all right, and gave her a hug. I remember seeing her, but I don't remember what I said, or hugging her. That same night I had shut my sliding doors in my bedroom, and moved tissues from the top of my nightstand to the cabinet.

I don't remember any of that, and only know it happened because a) my tissues were clumsily sticking out of the door and b) the sliding doors were closed, and no one else closed them.

Whoever marries me is going to have to love me very much, to put up with the nightly freakshow that is my sleep cycle. My aunt is just as bizarre, only she doesn't leave her bed. My uncle has said his heart almost stopped the first couple of times he woke up to find her standing over him.

I just took a 2.5 hour nap, and had a bad dream. It's so weird, because I feel so unstressed. Or felt so, rather. I had a lovely day, getting lunch with someone and going for a walk in Rock Creek Park. Then I came back here, sat on the balcony in the setting sun and read April's Glamour. Then I just kinda collapsed on top of my covers for a bit.

And the dreams, they were just so bizarre. In one, I was dating, or on a date, with this guy who could change into things - like a badger, or some other really weird animal that I don't even really know what looks like in real life. I asked him to stop, and he changed my outfit, against my will. And we were at this strange virtual reality place, that made you fly across the floor at high speeds. Kind of similar to the zoom feature on video games. You step on the floor, and fly forward uncontrollably for 35 feet.

In another, my coworkers on the magazine and I lived at our boss's house, and an emotional fight was going on over internet usage, and us being expected to work when we were "home." It's just so bizarre...work is not like that at all in real life.

And in another, my mom was driving, and she 1) had a new car, but said she wanted to trade it in because it was too minivan-like (it was a coupe?!) and 2) I made her pull over, because she was driving drunk.

Let me just state here that my mom WOULD NOT DO THAT. In fact, I've never even see her drunk. She's a stable, reliable, and responsible person.

In a continuation of that dream, I think, I was pulling out of a driveway with my mom. Three cars were parked haphazardly, and I thought that I couldn't make it past, but the car had other ideas. I tried to go through them (?), and the car spun and spun, hitting all three cars like in a pinball machine. And later, I was driving, and we saw this old homeless guy and his young granddaughter - their names were Gabriel and Gabriella - on the side of the road. We told him that we could take her with us to North Quincy (?) to a hospital but that he wouldn't be able to come. He said okay, then got in the driver's seat (I magically had moved to the middle) and I yelled at him to get out, and took the keys from the ignition.

Oh, and I met Madonna, and spent some time trying to convince her just because she's 53, her life isn't over, and she has a whole other 50 years or so to live. (BTW, I have no idea if she's 53 in real life. I don't think so, though.)

So I know dream posts are boring, but it's extremely helpful, because when I started writing about this, I had only remembered kissing the badger-man. When I took a break in the middle to fetch Ramen in the kitchen (yuck), a lot of it came back to me. I feel as though there are more memories and details sitting beneath the surface, but right now my mind can't penetrate the wall between me and my dreamworld.

I wish that I could have some unequivocally pleasant dreams once in a while, instead of always lingering on the edge of a "Ripley's Believe It or Not" episode.

Comments:
I like the title, it's so much more creative than "join our kickball team."
 
Well now. I used to have the same problem. Then I saw this movie.
A movie?
Yeah it's cheesey but it's all about the idea involved.
The movie is called Dreamscape. The idea is that you control you dreams. They don't control you.

It helped me, here's hoping it will help you too.

Sweet Dreams
 
I am a chronic insomniac...I hate it.
Sleep is such a wonderful wonderful thing...oh the joys of falling into a deep slumber...I feel for ya Meg..
maybe if you drink camomille before sleeping it would help?
 
And if camomille doesn't do it, Jack Daniels certainly does. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee you won't dream at all...much less remember going to sleep, the next day.

Maybe I have a problem...
 
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