I rarely dream when I sleep. When I do dream, I usually snap out of it pretty easily and realign myself to reality as soon as I wake up.
Recently, however, because my sleeping pattern has been a little out of whack, I have been having the strangest and most vivid dreams. Sometimes they seem so real, it takes hours for me to shake off that dizzying feeling of vertigo and sharpen my senses. It’s like my conscious self continues to float in limbo while my subconscious barrels ahead with all these thoughts and images and words that hold only a temporal meaning.
A few nights ago, I had this horrible nightmare in which my mother and sister told me they hated me because of a compromising letter I had written when I was a kid and which they had just discovered. There was so much crying and screaming, I can actually still hear it now. I kept apologizing but even in my dream, a lucid thought played over and over in my mind; that I had done something terribly wrong, that it was irreparable and that they were completely justified in hating me. I woke up sobbing hysterically into Gani’s back. (Thankfully, he slept through it so no embarrassing explanations were needed.)
And then last night, I dreamt that Gani and I decided to euthanize ourselves. We actually did it because a good friend of ours was being treated for a very serious disease and in order for her to live, she had to find two people willing to give up their lives. Somehow, Gani and I volunteered. I know it’s weird but in the dream, it seemed like the most normal thing to do. Nothing noble or dramatic. So we were both injected with this chemical called… *OK, I don’t remember it now, but I woke up with this word on the tip of my tongue* and were told that we had exactly two weeks to live. At first, we planned to inform all our loved ones of our impending deaths but somehow, as we met up with them, we would find ourselves having such a good time that it would completely slip our minds. On the day we were actually supposed to die, we realized we had not told anyone about it. We started panicking and making phone calls but no one would pick up their phones so we had to leave these bizarre voice messages. “Hey X, how’s it going? Just letting you know we are dying today. Bye!”
I guess I really should keep a dream journal. It’s weird how our dream memories fade so quickly, no matter how vivid they were and no matter how much we can recall within the first few minutes of waking up. I have a particularly bad memory and the only reason why I can even remember these dreams is because I actually described them out loud to Gani.
So, a dream journal… hmm.