Over the span of the last two weeks, I’ve been having a stream of unpleasant dreams. This is somewhat notable for me, because I typically do not remember my dreams all too well to begin with, and I usually will have forgotten them by the time I’m brushing my teeth in the morning. However the last two weeks, I’ve been having some particularly unpleasant ones that I wish were forgotten upon awakening, but I remembered them regardless of snoozing and returning to sleep, or getting up and hoping they’d go away instantaneously.
The details are all blurs and blobs of unsavory occurrences that I can’t really explain even if I really tried, but the two things that stood out the most were that in two instances in these dreams, a person was shot. I’m going to refrain who specifically they were, because I don’t wish such an omen on even people I don’t really like much less those that actually matter to me, but the fact of the matter is that in two separate dreams over the last two weeks, there was a gunshot victim.
Inquiring with friends resulted in the fairly consensus opinion that dreams exist to work out emotions and thoughts throughout the days, and in some cases, dreams sometimes manifest from anxieties or stresses from a day-to-day basis. The thing is that I don’t necessarily think life is at all that bad right now; I’m not really stressed, but I’m also not without at least one niggling anxiety in the back of my mind; which what it is, seems to be a far cry from people getting shot. Things aren’t perfect, things could be better in some regards, but I don’t have that many genuine complaints to be causing such anxiety to where I’m having terrible dreams, I think.
A part of me wants to believe that this string of bad dreams is somewhat of a sign that something unpleasant might be on the horizon; maybe, hopefully, nobody I know getting shot, but in the past, whenever I’ve had really, gut-sinking bad feelings, there have been some pretty pain-in-the-ass instances like fender benders or getting a speeding ticket. Given the fact that I was capable of making it into work on Friday, there are still areas near my house that are oft-shaded and therefore the last places to de-ice, so I suppose I should really be on the lookout for black guys ice when I’m in my car while it’s still chilly.
What really sucks about it all though is that whenever I’m having these unpleasant dreams, no matter if I sleep six hours or ten, I don’t feel at all rested when I wake up, and the stress my brain puts me through over the nighttime hours puts me on edge during the day when I’m awake and operating, and it has been pointed out to me that it has apparently been affecting my mood, and not necessarily in the most pleasant of ways.
Additionally, I don’t easily tire at night, no matter how late it gets. Caffeine really isn’t an issue, because all I consume is 12 ounces of Starbucks between 8-10 a.m. on weekdays, and hardly any afterward, and no sodas these days. Needless to say, deciding to go to sleep is somewhat forced out of necessity, especially on work nights, and given the string of unpleasant dreams I’ve been having lately, the thought of going to sleep just isn’t that appealing.
