I don't dream often, or I don't remember them. A common theme in the dreams I do remember is frustration. Making out with someone while being constantly interrupted, or trying to run and feeling like I am stuck in slow motion. So, I'm ok with my dream amnesia. In fact, I'm wishing for it more and more these days.
A few weeks ago I had a dream that continued even after I woke up and went back to sleep. I know somewhere in my head this serves a purpose, but to my conscious mind it is torture. I dreamt that you all lied to me, every one of you. My mom showed up very much alive. I couldn't even spare a moment of relief as the wound of betrayal opened and my body filled with rage. It was like she wasn't even there, all I could feel was anger. I proceeded to kick and punch each of you in turn, but my punches were lame and weak. I'd wind up and swing with all my might only to feel my arm travel through air the consistency of jelly. I was completely unable to revenge this terrible pain you had all caused by lying to me. All of this and she was just there, watching, silent. When I finally woke up for good I was left feeling only disappointment. I was so mad at myself for not spending those precious dreaming moments hugging her. Even a few seconds spent dreaming up that embrace, that relief, would be heaven, but instead I was violent and impotent. It's left a lasting scar inside me. I go to sleep with apprehension, I dread waking to another impossible regret.
This morning I had a series of shitty dreams between presses of the snooze button. If mom shows up I am always inclined to try to fall back into the dream, even though the dreams are never pleasant. This was no different. This wasn't nearly as vivid as the previous nightmare, but it followed me through this day anyway. Traveling somewhere with sick mom. Facing impossible delays that threaten her comfort and health. Loud crackling noises keep her from sleeping while we are delayed in what I think was an airport control tower. Some sort of storm blows buildings over and eventually blows the tower over. I woke up shortly after picking my mom up while running Wile E. Coyote style down the walls as the tower crumbled. Only there was nothing in my arms when I looked back down.
See, shitty frustrating dreams. I'm never fast or strong enough to affect real changes to these dreamscapes. Hopeless even just in my own head.
In general though, I'm feeling closer to normal. It's easier to get out of bed and I enjoy getting out more even though I have to put on pants.
