It was a return to a familiar, uncomfortable place last night. The good news is that my sleep pattern is getting a little better. Just after 2.30am and I was drifting off, which is much better than the gone 5am’s, or no sleep at all, that my body clock has been doing with me recently.
The down side is that there was a return to those rest killers, the vividly remembered bad dreams. Yet again, I woke up exhausted, feeling far worse than when I went to bed. It’s no dream life when you’re depressed even when in the land of nod.
It’s pretty much established medically, through decades of research, that people with depression dream more, and that their dreams are far more memorable. I’m not an expert by any means but it’s something to do with the time spent in sleep is much more at the REM stage, hence the dreams becoming more prevalent. The constant negative thoughts ensures the dreams themselves are generally vivid and troubling.
Mine were kind of out of the blue but I can at least understand them. They also seemed to merge from one into the other. The first centred around my ex. I could hear her voice, of which the soft tone went right through to my soul.
She wasn’t there, though, even though her voice was as if she was right there with me. I had in my hand some sort of tablet computer, outside, though I wasn’t paying much attention to it, just her voice. No hugely difficult meaning there. I still miss her, even though we’re finished, and I’m trying to get on with my life. She still has a pull on me, is what it signified, I’m sure.
It then sort of went to an inner urban area nearby. I sensed danger, I was anxious being there. Around me, a lot of men were behaving boorishly and aggressively, although not specifically towards me.
Again, nothing too much to work out. Football’s World Cup is going on, something I really don’t have much interest in. The pubs, however, are full of people drinking throughout the day, watching match after match, including the bar opposite The Magnolia Treehouse. It’s not nice to be around, a nightly dose of shouting, threatening, and the obvious sound of a scuffle going on.
This dream then went onwards. I was getting out of that area, and for some reason, at a coach drop-off point, I waited for someone I knew was coming, but didn’t exactly know who until the coach turned up. As the coach pulled up my curiosity turned to shock.
Coming out of the coach was an old flame of mine from a good dozen years ago. She was thrilled to see me, and I was lost for words, beginning to weep a little in happiness at seeing her again.
The joy was short lived. She then told me that it’s over between us, and that there’s no chance of us ever getting back together again. She was staying on the coach, so as the door closed and it pulled away, I was left there, utterly confused. What the hell was that about?
Why she came into my dream I can understand. She looks and talks uncannily like someone who played a prominent part in a recent popular tv programme. Seeing the series, which I would add she’s not a main character in or particularly famous from it, has been the trigger.
What I don’t understand is the lecture to me about it being over and no chance of getting together again. All those years ago, it was me who broke off with her. I haven’t thought about her much, either, or tried to get in contact at all since then. It’s so bizarre.
So when I woke up, very early and way before my usual 7.15am start, I was anxious, sad, upset, on edge, and utterly confused. I’ve also been exhausted all day. I’m beginning to think I may have been better off with no sleep at all once more.
I did find, however, that I was too tired to dredge up the negative thought patterns too much. The walk into town, job search, and shopping was done with mostly a pretty blank mind. That is, at least, a bonus.
I wouldn’t recommend it though. I long for a time where I can have a normal night’s sleep. Not no sleep, not a sleep punctuated by nightmares, not a night where I wake up and can’t get myself out of bed because the grip my mind has on me.
A normal night’s rest isn’t too much to ask for is it? Dreaming of a better night’s sleep is the height of my ambition at the moment. Make it through the night and I can get through the days so much better.
Until then, I look forward to tonight’s slumber with bated, anxious breath. My depressed mind is clearly not sure how to torment me with the dreams it came up with last night. So before it decides how to, I’m thinking “Take your time choosing how to, give yourself a night off.
Let’s sleep on it …..”