Sunday, February 14, 2010


I remember, I think, more of my dreams than most people. I like to regale my colleagues at work with a story about some weird or inappropriate dream I had of them the night before. But that's the only advantage I can think of.

Because most of my dreams are not funny. They are scary and disturbing and involve a lot of running from danger. This week, I had a dream that was so disturbing that I woke myself up to try to stop it only to have it continue when my head hit the pillow again. It involved my father-in-law, whom I love very much, but in my dream, I killed him and then I begged forgiveness from my husband and wept at the thought of going to jail. Very strange.

In this same dream, I repeatedly said to myself, "this is just a dream, right?" and to prove it, I found myself at the edge of a precipice over the rocky ocean. I tried to throw myself off the ledge so that I would know that it was a dream. But I couldn't do it; it felt too real; I was afraid to die.

Not sure what this all means - I'm probably expressing anxiety over any number of normal worries, but that it all manifests itself in my mind in such vivid and disturbing detail makes me a little worried about myself. I wish I didn't remember them in the morning so much as they often flash back to me during the day and give me thoughts I'd rather avoid.

"Dreams are free therapy, but you can only get appointments at night." ~Grey Livingston