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Dreams are the worse. They are the weirdest, and sometimes most embarrassing things! Whether it’s vivid sex dreams, or dreaming that you’re on the toilet when you need to go to the bathroom and really, really believing you are there…and then realizing when you are awakened by a wet bed that you definitely were not. Luckily, I’ve grown out of that one.
They say dreams are your brain trying to sort itself out, and deal with things you can’t deal with consciously. Well, I don’t know what my brain is doing most of the time. Definitely not that.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been a vivid dreamer. I apparently talk in my sleep, and I used to sleep walk. I also use to have waking dreams, being trapped in that moment when you’re not really asleep but not quite awake, and have pretty vivid hallucinations. Like one time I swore there was someone in my room beside the baby’s crib. Horrifying stuff. Sometimes, I lucid dream, and somewhat control what’s going on, and know it’s a dream, but at other times it’s the opposite, and I’m convinced it’s real, both as it’s happening and after I wake up.
Sometimes this gets me in trouble because I will swear I have done something that I was supposed to do, and realize later that I only dreamed it.
It’s not uncommon for me to startle awake and be quite distressed. I once vividly dreamed that I died in a car crash. It was awful. I could see the truck coming, and it was similar to when I was in a real life car accident. Except this time, I died. Like, I saw the truck coming, and it crumpled everything in the car, and I knew I was going to die, and when it hit me, everything went blank. Not black, or white, or grey, just blank. Nothing. I didn’t even know that was possible. It took me months to get over that dream.
A few nights ago I dreamed I was standing on a street corner, naked, holding a sign and I think trying to get people to go into the business. I didn’t even realize I was naked except near the end, and then I tried to just ignore it and block it out. I know that’s what I do in real life. If I’m embarrassed or hurt, I try to immediately shut the feelings down. So that makes sense.
There’s one dream that is pretty recurring, and I think I know where it comes from. In the dream, something terrible has happened, and I have to try to call 911. But the thing is, I can’t. In some dreams, I try to very carefully dial, and it still doesn’t work. I try to slide my iPhone to use the emergency call feature. I try to ask Siri to call. I try to Google it, copy, and paste it. I even try to text it. But no matter what I do, no matter how carefully I slow down and try to do it exactly right, I can never get it to work, while my anxiety builds and the trouble keeps getting worse. This dream stems from a variety of things. I think the most obvious one is from the time I had a car crash, as I mentioned above. I never saw the other car coming, and suddenly I was just in the middle of the road, knocked to one side, not sure what’s going on. So my adrenaline and anxiety were pretty high. I tried to call my mom, but I ended up dialing my own number. So, that part makes sense. But the deeper root, I think is the anxiety that is probably part of my ADD – literally being unable to pay attention sometimes, especially when the stakes are high. Like that day, driving. I thought I was doing everything I was supposed to do, and being so careful, but somehow missed that car. It happens with a lot of other things, where I swear I have checked and double checked and been so careful, but then it turns out I’ve missed something important, and now I have to battle low-self esteem and anxiety about wondering what I could have missed.
Last night’s dream was similar, but more bizarre. This time, it was me who had the accident. As far as I remember, that never happens. Usually I’m trying to save someone else. But something happened to me, and I had a broken collarbone. Which is really scary, because I’ve never broken a bone before, and I definitely never want to experience it, but I feel like it’s only a matter of time, hence the anxiety. Anyway, I must have been in the States or something, because the doctor told me that I didn’t have insurance to be able to fix my collarbone. She told me that because my shoulder had rotated, the best she could do is sew up the wound over the break, but essentially I would eventually become septic and die, and there was nothing that she could do about it. Of course, now that makes no sense because that’s not how the clavicle works, but in the dream, it was canon. And the nightmare completely took over. I was going to die, according to this doctor, in the next few days. And it was awful. I avoided telling anyone, but I wanted to make one last phone call. The person I wanted to talk to before I died was my friend Rebecca (for some reason, we don’t even talk that often, but she’s a golden human so maybe that’s why I wanted her to be part of my final moments on earth.)
But I couldn’t find her number. I couldn’t figure out a way to get a hold of her. I swore she would be in my recent calls, I tried to find our last conversation on Facebook messenger. I was desperate, but I just couldn’t find it. And then I woke up, and suspected it was a dream, and was feeling my collarbone, but it took a while for me to be convinced that it wasn’t really true, that I wasn’t actually dying. And I actually do know how to reach her. But still. I was shook.
So today I’m quite tired, and still a little disturbed. Still trying to manage my anxiety and not believe that I’m doing everything wrong, and it’s only a matter of time before someone points out my grievous mistakes. I’m trying to hold on to the peace of God, and not go back into a hole, especially as my monthly dysphoria comes around the corner. But it’s hard. And it sounds like it will always be a little hard.
Do you have any recurring dreams – good or bad? What do you think they mean? Discuss below!
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