I've gotten so used to numbing myself I can't tell, does this hurt? all I can feel is this flickering itch a buzzing, deep hum that smells like fear Thick plumes of smoke obscure all hope heavily sedated from breathing black air every added second makes me more tired it's so much easier to just sleep
It's not fair I can't fall asleep with the trees every winter and only rise again when the distant sun returns being left abandoned in this windswept landscape is too much agony to endure year after year Left to live as a corpse in this cold darkness denied the sweet slumber offered to half of nature unable to escape into an expanded unconsciousness until I am awaked by the scent of spring flowers Half my life is wasted waiting for the thaw huddled into myself for safety and warmth where the beauty of the silent snow cannot creep into my veins Patience is a virtue I have not been artful in the ticking clock torments me and tears me down telling me I must rise and not let time slip by while my delicate soul continues to shiver
My higher self hides sweet droplets of honey dew inside my head glistening gifts given to ensure a good night's sleep The best self-care is kindled deep within my dreams a dependable dripping of sustenance I am so grateful to devour Sleep ensures I am swaddled within all the sensations the waking world lacks a nightly reprieve from suffering sharing space with you in my soul A tender treat from my unconscious mind to tide me over on this tiresome journey far away from where I would like to be sometimes it's enough to be happy as I sleep
There is a stillness in the night that stops all thought I often wonder if it is supposed to feel so sweet as I slip underneath existence Each morning is an agony of renewed responsibility and expectation awaking to find myself again confined behind the same searching eyes within a cumbersome prison of flesh and bone Where is it exactly that we spend half our lives? why does my soul seem more suited to the ethereal landscapes of the unconscious? why has the waking world never seemed to hold me fully in its solid hand? I've always looked forward to the night to the moment I am swallowed up by the soft oblivion behind my eyelids even a dreamless inky darkness to me seems simply scrumptious I've rarely known the torment of an agitated, incomplete night's sleep I am equally a stranger to even a moment of conscious rest and repose I'm accustomed to black and white My soul is perpetually sleepy exhausted by the constant fires lit within the waking world It wants to dissipate under deep slumber to be scattered into stardust I can only hope that I'll be greeted by this same strange pleasure as I let go once more into my ultimate end and sink beneath those familiar, dark waters for one sublime and final time
Open eyes, another new day the inky blackness of a night not yet over resisting each surrender to the sun, just like me The strained chorus of small voices reminding me that I am needed A sigh followed by a smile signals the transition from a warm cave of covers into the cold air A fresh start, an empty vessel eager to be filled again, but not just yet The soft stillness of the mind in the morning is something to be savored as we make the descent from dreams to daylight. Make an effort to linger here as long as you can Allow your mind to rest in the spaces in between That's where I'll be.
Last night I had some more very poignant and interesting (to me at least) dreams. I don’t know if it works this way for other people, but for me I generally have multiple, completely separate dreams each night. They usual seem to be unrelated to one another. For some reason there are some nights when I am just more struck by them than others.
I guess it’s foolish not to acknowledge that part of the reason I am often so interested is when my dreams have something to do with my old boyfriend. I have had prophetic dreams about him in the past and I guess I’m still hoping that dreaming of him is a signal that he will reappear again. We didn’t end things on the best of terms the last time we spoke. But ultimately it was I who was angry with him. A few weeks ago I decided to reach out again, but got no reply. This wasn’t as devastating as I imagined it would be, but I still think about it often. He just doesn’t seem like the type to completely ignore me. Even if he didn’t want anymore contact, I figured he would say so. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows. I suppose I don’t really know him anymore.
Anyway, back to the dreams. In the first dream, I was at a client’s house. (I am a social worker.) For some reason they wanted me to get a broom and clean the spider webs off of their porch. The house was my grandmother’s, but that didn’t seem significant in the dream. I went out with the broom and lifted it up to clean out all the webs in the corners. In the webs there were several large, fuzzy moths. They weren’t caught in the web, more just hanging out in it. I collected them up and was very pleased. (I love those fuzzy headed moths.) I brought them back in to the house and put them in a cage with the children’s guinea pigs, thinking that would be okay for some reason. The guinea pigs ate them. I was very upset.
I looked up what moths and webs could signify. (Not that I really believe anyone knows what symbols in dreams truly mean.) The web could be representing my desire to control everything, or it could mean I feel trapped and unsure of where to go. This fits in nicely with the moth explanation, apparently moths could represent my weakness, character flaws, or fragileness.
So this dream that potentially had something to do with uncertainty and feeling flawed and fragile bled into a dream about my ex-boyfriend. I texted him again and told him that I had just dyed my hair. He responded right away that he was excited to see it and sent me a strange tictok type video of he and his current girlfriend. He apparently hadn’t been ignoring me before. He just never got my last text.
This short, pretty insignificant dream made me so happy. I always feel a sense of energy and excitement when he appears in my dreams. It has been a long time. I had already considered trying to send him a message on Facebook in case he truly didn’t ever get my text, but I haven’t. Now I’m wondering again if I should. I realize that this entire post is just the nonsense ramblings of a creep who can’t get over their ex. I am painfully aware of that. But I still can’t help feeling the way that I do. At least I’ll always have my dreams…
Her fingers smell like cigarettes she's waiting for the day to end she's waiting for the inky black of sleep She's fortunate, yet full of fear she's stacking up the wasted days to make a wasted year Somehow still hoping with that numb and heavy heart hoping something good is almost here She hides away inside her head feeding demons who promise they'll keep the world away But that sense of safety never stays instead she's given lonely days and an ever-shrinking window for change
Last night for the second time in only a few days I had a dream about carrying an extremely heavy purse or bag. I found the first one rather amusing. I was still in high school. I was about to drive myself to the school and I was running late. But I stopped to organize my bag because it was ridiculously heavy. I just kept taking out more and more nondescript, random items until I had nearly filled my entire living room.
Last night’s was slightly different. This time I can’t recall exactly where I was. It may have had something to do with school again. The strange part about this one was that when I looked into my bag to try to lighten my load, there was hardly anything in it. I could not understand what was making it so heavy. It seems like once I looked a few times the bag felt lighter though.
I know most people probably view dreams as just random nonsense. But I genuinely believe that my dreams are a glimpse at my inner landscape, my subconscious fears, worries, obsessions. I think it’s worthwhile to at least attempt to decipher them. Even if it’s only the interpretation I come up with that has any significance.
I saw something recently about dreaming and was shocked to learn that serotonin plays a part in remembering your dreams. Considering I’m someone with intense anxiety, which usually means a lack of serotonin, I’m surprised I am so good at remembering my dreams every night. Perhaps it is solely because they matter to me. However, it only strengthens my belief that these nightly lives I lead are important somehow. Especially when they are recurring.
After some brief research, it seems that dreaming about something being heavy is, as could easily be expected, a signal that you are carrying heavy burdens with you. Although I found it interesting that a purse or bag specifically can imply secrets. Given that I have been thinking a lot about secrets and shame recently, it makes sense. My best guess is that these dreams were a metaphor for my anxiety and the heavy weight it puts on my heart and mind.
The first dream was showing me that when I take the time to examine my heavy load, I realize that I have no need to carry most of the things that I have been carrying. It is okay to set them down. The second dream is a little more interesting. There wasn’t anything heavy in my bag. I think this was referring back to a real life scenario I often go through. I often feel so overwhelmed, thinking I have umpteen tasks to complete. But when I actually sit down to list them out, I realize that it’s not as bad as I was imagining. And my heart feels lighter. This is exactly what seemed to be happening in my dream. I felt like my bag was so ridiculously heavy. But when I looked inside I realized there was hardly anything inside. Then the bag felt lighter.
I think both of these dreams were a gentle reminder from my subconscious. All I need to do is be present and really look within to see that there is no reason for my heart to be heavy. There are a few things I burden myself with carrying. But it is time to set those things down. I don’t need to weigh myself down with them anymore. Remaining mindful of what is truly inside each moment, I will see that all is well.
I’ve heard comedians and people makes jokes about how boring it is to listen to other people talk about their dreams. That has always surprised me and made me wonder if people really feel that way. Dreams have always been absolutely fascinating to me. I love hearing about other people’s dreams. It think it provides such an interesting peek into someone’s subconscious mind.
I’ve also always loved metaphors, and I think of dreams as complex metaphors themselves. I know neither science nor psychology has really been able to definitively tell us what dreams are, what they mean, or why we even have them to begin with, but I wholeheartedly believe that they matter. And in my experience whatever you believe matters does matter.
I sometimes am able to use my dreams to guide me toward important insights about myself. They can often lead me to different perspectives on certain situations that have been troubling me. I believe the common reoccurring characters in my dreams are important people in my life or perhaps represent something important to me. I’ve certainly always found mulling over these nightly self-told stories to be worthwhile.
I have been writing down my dreams every morning for around a year now. It can be really helpful in order to remember them more easily and notice patterns or themes within them. For instance, I noticed I dream a lot about my middle school boyfriend whom I only dated for probably three weeks and haven’t spoken to since we graduated. This continues to puzzle me, but I’m sure I’ll discover the reason eventually. I’ve even had prophetic dreams and been able to prove as much by showing where I had written down a similar event occurring in a dream a week before it happened in real life. I have no idea how that happens or what it could possibly mean, if anything.
For all of these reasons and many more I’m sure I’ve forgotten to mention, I adore dreams. I feel very connected to my personal dreamscape. Dreaming is like being able to live a whole other life every night. A life where anything is possible. Not to mention that time itself is distorted. In the span of only a few hours we can live an entire lifetime potentially.
Dreams are one of the reasons I decided to study psychology. I don’t understand how anyone is able to disregard them or say they are meaningless nonsense. If our brains are manifesting them, there must be a good reason. At least that’s what I think. So even if it’s true that other people are bored by even the thought of hearing about someone else’s dream, I’m going to keep talking about mine. Because if nothing else, they are at least amusing.
I may even begin posting my dreams on this blog or perhaps another I would create solely for the purpose of sharing them. I would love to have dream discussions and get feedback about what other people think they could mean. Not to mention I would love to read about everyone else’s dreams! Let me know if a dream blog is something you would be interested in or if you have any neat dreams to share with me.
I have always been deeply interested in dreams. I have found them fascinating since I was a young child. They are so mysterious. I am endlessly amazed at the things my unconscious brain is able to create for me each night while I sleep.
Recently I have gotten better at remembering them as well. I’ve been writing them down in my bullet journal once I wake up. The night before last I had a disturbing visceral dream that one of my toes just fell off. It was grotesque. It hurt, but not as bad as having a toe really fall off would have. There was hardly any blood and the stump left on my foot looked as if it had already been healing for a few months. I tried to tape the tip back on in the hopes it would reattach, but I knew somehow it wouldn’t work and that the awful toe tip I had in my hand was already dead.
Now, compare that monstrous dream to the one I had last night. I don’t remember all of the dream, just the end. I was having a conversation with someone. They were basically feeling pity for me and expressing how sad it was that I hadn’t found a romantic partner and may never find one. I was desperately trying to help them understand that they shouldn’t feel bad for me. I remember the phrasing perfectly as I replied to them, “Even if I never find someone that loves me in that way, I won’t be sad. I am so grateful for all of the other kinds of love that I’ve been lucky enough to have in this life.”
I could feel that grateful feeling even after I awoke. I often find myself caring the emotional state of my dreams over into the waking world with me. But I’ve never really had a dream like that before. It was simply beautiful. Usually my dreams are far more bizarre and unrealistic, as you can see from the other one I mentioned.
What a kind thing my unconscious mind has done for me as I rested. I hope that those words and that feeling of peaceful gratitude remain with me for a long time.
Protect the Innocent 