This morning, I want to take a moment to bless pleasant dreams and undisturbed sleep. I have always dreamed vividly, playing out elaborate fantasies through the night. There’s a dream about red and blue kingdoms I had when I was nine I still remember (and a coincidental precursor to my adult obsession with all things red and blue).
I have also always resisted sleep. I never grew out of the childhood standoff against bedtime. Even now, even last night, I have to convince myself to turn off the light and sleep. And I do need the convincing.
A few years ago, that convincing happened with a bottle of wine and deep resignation to what the night ahead would bring. After I separated from and eventually divorced my husband, I had nightmares nearly every night.
Some dreams were violent. Some were sweet. Some played out elaborate reconciliation fantasies. Some ended with me crying in the dream, and then shaken awake by own sobs in the middle of the night.
I wondered, after a year passed, and then two, if they would ever stop. The dreams tapered a bit, I’d only see him in my dreams a few times a week. But there he was. No matter how hard I tried to move on in my waking hours, his face was waiting for me in my dreams. That’s my definition of a nightmare.
Dreams stay with me. My senior of college when I was batting my depression and self-harm relapse, I had a dream about being strapped down in an asylum. My friends stood over me and said it was for my own good. That I was crazy. Yeah, a little too on the nose. I started keeping myself awake as long as I could each night.
But let’s lighten the tone here because some mornings I want to crawl back in my dream to see how the story ends. Most nights I fall asleep now without a fuss. It’s been two months since I’ve seen his face in my dreams. Part of the change is time, though I never would have believed it. The other part is closure: the last time I saw him it was clear he had moved on. It was time for me to let go too.
Last night I slept peacefull, so why dredge up some nightmares? I guess looking at the light makes me remember the dark. I don’t want to remember it forever, but I don’t want to forget it. My good days are all the more beautiful for all the bad behind me.
I gave my dreams too much power. They were just dreams. Same with my waking thoughts, I need to acknowledge them and let them go. I’m still learning.
With Love,
Natalie