Dreamin’

Posted December 18th, 2004 by Michelle

I can’t stop dreaming. I never sleep the night through these days, which may be why I have bursts of energy and then all I want to do is go back to bed. But each time I wake I have to disentangle myself from whatever brilliant-hued imaginary life I’ve been living for the last hour or so. I have to realize that I’m not a vampire, that my tongue is the appropriate size, that there is no crazy shattered casing surrounding my teeth, that I am not Jewish, that my friends did not just thwart my attempted rape in a country club (?), that I am not going to Iceland with one of my mormon aunts, that my brother Steve is not out walking aimlessly in the Netherlands, that no one painted a beautiful picture of my 6 foot tall Mediterranean husband and I sleeping face to face. Oh yeah, and that I’m not married to an incredibly gorgeous 6 foot tall Mediterranean guy.

And this is just in the last two days.

Each dream is complete, all of them tinged with woe. I read once that dreams are 70% negative, 30% positive, but I can count the truly *good* dreams I’ve ever had on one hand. I used to have recurring nightmares, when I was very young, about having to save my parents from some evil- there was always a hot air ballon in these dreams- and the bad dreams have followed me into adulthood. But I can’t figure out why I’m dreaming so much these days. About a month ago I noticed that I wasn’t dreaming at all, and hadn’t since I moved here, and then that part of my brain switched on with such vehemence that it wakes me ten, twelve times a night. My dad suggested I write them all down, but I’d never get back to sleep.

I don’t know how much dream content is actually relevant. But I would love to know why these are the topics that haunt me, that won’t allow me to sleep more than an hour or two at any time.

My dear friend Elizabeth stopped by yesterday while I was working from home, and we chatted about the parts of our lives that are brimming with goodness, and the parts of our lives that are black holes. I was left wondering how many people in the world love both their job and their life partner. It almost seems to much to ask… hell, I’ll ask for it anyway. But I wonder if my dream life has been inspired by my waking creative life, or if I’ve been dreaming this much my whole life and I only pay attention to it during certain times. Do I only pay attention when I’m busy asking myself questions, like the ones Elizabeth and I were discussing yesterday?

The guy who tried to rape me last night in my dream was tall and bearded. He looked like Paul Bunyan. My friends totally kicked his ass- I hit him so hard that my whole arm jarred. The Mediterranean guy? My goodness. He was a piece of work.

I’m going to try to keep paying attention, but I don’t know that anything will be clearer for it.