Those who dream by day...

I have extremely vivid dreams. Some mornings I don’t recall my dreams. Other mornings the images are strong; familiar enough to be memories instead of fantasy. The most vivid of my dreams are typically nightmares. I often wake up, terrified and unable to think. I feel my heart beating, hands shaking, hear my ragged breath. Sometimes I don’t wake up until after. I tried to get away once. I threw myself out of bed and twisted my ankle then slammed into the wall with my forehead. I crumpled to the ground and finally woke up enough to realize I was running from something and I was in a sorry little heap on the floor of the bedroom. The hilarity of that experience helped me overcome the aftershock of fear. I couldn’t fall asleep for a while after that because I was giggling about running into the wall.

Some of the most terrifying ones happen during sleep paralysis. I’m normally in terrible danger but I can’t escape. Panic and terror mingle and then I wake — except I can’t breathe a sigh of relief, roll over and fall back asleep. My eyes are open. I can see the dim shadows of my room. I can feel my body, I know it’s there, but it will not obey me, not even the slightest command to wiggle a finger or a toe. The brain turns off the body when we sleep so we don’t hurt ourselves. Sleep paralysis happens when the brain hasn’t turned the body back on before we wake up. It’s a pretty logical, scientific explanation. Sadly, logic and science rarely have much sway during those panic-filled moments.

I also have a recurring dream of a malicious presence/person standing near my bed. Always on the right side of the bed, always standing near my waist or closer to my feet. It doesn’t do anything but stand there, looming over me.

I am an incredibly restless sleeper.

Some good dreams grip me too. Those dreams I wake up and make notes about for future story possibilities. One such dream helped inspire my first National Novel Writing Month novel. Sometimes I wake up from those dreams groggy, unsure of where I am because the movie in my mind had seemed so very real seconds ago.

At times, it feels like my brain rarely stops moving. I’m the kid who couldn’t sit in silence and eat a bowl of cereal. I had to at least be reading the back of the box. This is one of the reasons I hate driving. I don’t find it mentally stimulating. My brain tries to shut off and occupy itself with other more entertaining thoughts. This is not a good idea, as my overactive imaginations makes me very good at daydreaming.

Dreams (the good and the bad) have always fascinated me. I highly recommend the Charles de Lint books, particularly The Onion Girl and Widdershins. Where do our brains come up with these places, these events, these scenarios? How can the brain rest if it’s making these mental movies? Why do some people remember their dreams and others don’t?

Is it cloak ‘n dagger
Could it be spring or fall
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips
These Dreams, Heart

[Originally published May 3, 2013]