Some form of anxiety is translating into my dreams. I feel like I hardly sleep and instead REM all night long. The dreams are too long, too horrific, too real. I think this may, in part, have been inspired by my Psychopathology textbook given that it mentioned that people with depression go through REM more often and at the “wrong” times of the night. But then again, it’s also possible the two are nowhere near related.
Two nights ago I dreamt that I was stuck in a car with person UA as the driver. And AM was in the front seat. I was frantically typing into my iPhone’s Map, “Downey Police Department” but I wasn’t in Downey. I was in the familiar LA area where I lived for most of my life, near Crenshaw. It’s funny; I always dream of my old house in LA, and that area ’round there, me always thinking (in the dream) that I’m in Downey. Anyway, I was looking for the police department because I had gotten raped and needed desperately to report the crime. AM had also gotten raped, but by UA (yeah, the driver), so it was one confusing mess. My rapist wasn’t really introduced in the picture… but I kept trying to wake myself up from the dream and with every attempt throughout the night/morning I couldn’t remember if I had REALLY gotten raped or if it was just a dream. Not exactly pleasant. Finally, Sandy called me at around 8:30am and woke me up from the dream, thank goodness! But I couldn’t shake the dream and I felt so uncomfortable. It wasn’t until about 20 minutes after I’d woken up that I realized the rape wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Only one person right now could possibly understand the anxiety. I’m still not dealing with it… I don’t know how! (Not to worry, I’m in no danger.)
Then last night I dreamt that my brother and I were playing a game in front of my mother. We were all swimming in this great big lagoon with a golden bridge above us, and everything was fine. But my brother and I decided to up the ante and ran up the golden stairs (it was definitely tiring!) and there when we reached the top to the bridge, there was another lake. Well, it looked like a bridge, but instead of any floor, there was only water. I think he and I started to drown… and then my loud music alarm woke me. I just remember the sky was rather gray and drab, but the coloring of everything was really nice… hard to explain.
I’ve also dreamt that I dyed my hair, cleaned the apartment, gone places, etc. It isn’t until I think of these things in real life do I realize (with some confusion) that I recently dreamt of them. You know that confusion where you don’t know if you already did something or not? It’s like that… except I can’t discern dreams and reality anymore (well except for the fact that the apartment is dirty still, and my hair is not yet dyed). Reality is the only thing corroborating reality right now. Otherwise my mind would wholly believe everything in my dreams.
My memory is getting more blurry as well. This might also have something to do with the fact that I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. I’m trying not to, but I just get so tired. Usually when I’m depressed I’ll sleep a ton. I don’t feel sad or anything… but depression is not necessarily sadness. And I’m getting the urge to write again. That’s another forsure sign that I’m depressed. When I’m NOT depressed (aka normal) I can’t write at all. It feels like my days are usual, common, and that there’s nothing worth writing about.
I’m not prepared for this!