To Sleep, Perchance to Dream. (Or not. Not dreaming would be ok, too. EVEN BETTER, actually.)

For the last several nights, I’ve been getting a lot of sleep, but waking up feeling drained and tired.  Not physically tired, but emotionally tired.  The kind of tired you feel after spending a day with Great Aunt Ethel who only wants to talk about her spleen.  The kind of tired that makes you want to go to bed, except that your body is too rested to actually SLEEP, so you lay in bed, cursing whatever you can think of to curse.  THAT kind of tired.

I’ve been dreaming like crazy.  I never dream.  Well, that’s not true, EVERYBODY dreams, but I never remember my dreams (unless I have nightmares – THOSE I remember.  THANKS A LOT, BRAIN).  Last night I turned off my light at 9:00 so that I could wake up at 4:00 and go to the gym.  I woke up later, feeling pretty good.  “It must be a few minutes before 4,” I thought.  “My body is finally getting used to the 4am wake-up call, and is anticipating it (as my body inevitably does.  It makes weekends SUPER-FUN when you’re awake at 4).”  I rolled over and looked at the clock.

THE HELL?  It was 12:30, people.  THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.  So I went back to sleep.  To awaken just before 4:00 (there’s that internal clock – THANKS AGAIN, BRAIN) with the remnants of a disturbing dream about formless body-snatchers floating through my brain.  I was fried, so I hit snooze and went back to sleep.  Screw the gym, I thought, it’s not even my regular day.

I woke up again at 4:45.  No, my alarm didn’t go off.  I just woke up.  YAY.  And 5:15.  And 5:30 (seriously, FIFTEEN MINUTES?  COME ON).  And 6:00.  Which is when I got up, because this was FREAKIN’ RIDICULOUS.  I could have gone to the damn gym and felt just as not-rested. 

But the weird thing was that I kept having those dreams. I think of them as almost-nightmares.  In the dream, it was more like watching a movie than actually LIVING it.  I felt anxious, but not threatened.  I  watched characters get chased down the halls of a sinister-looking hospital by formless, shapeless things bent on killing them, but I knew somehow that I was invisible.  I was there, but not there.  I was sad that people were dying, but had the feeling that I could have gone home to dinner without much more thought about it.  Like watching a movie.  Or rather, like EXISTING in a movie, without the “movie” being aware that you were there.  Watching from the inside, so to speak.  I don’t know if I can explain it any better than that. 

*SIGH*  I don’t know what is going on.  I know that I only dream when my unconscious is trying REALLY HARD to get through to me, and I’m blocking something that I don’t want to “hear.”  When I’m not paying attention to something I don’t want to deal with.  (It’s probably not a coincidence that I would really like to get rip-roaring drunk every night right now, either.  I haven’t been doing that, but I’d LIKE to.)

So. 

Dear Brain,
Please find another way to get through to me, ok?  I NEED MY SLEEP, FOR GOD’S SAKE.  YOU’RE KILLING ME HERE.  I almost told one of my bosses where to stick it yesterday, and THAT’S NOT GOOD.  I WOULD LIKE TO KEEP MY JOB.
Sincerely,
Marste
PS – if you could find a way to get through to me other than the dreaming (because seriously?  BODY-SNATCHERS?  The hell does THAT mean?), could you also not decide to break my body or get sick?  Those are also bad options.  Life is too busy for debilitating back pain right now.  Thanks.

(Any dream-interpreters out there?  ‘Cause I got NOTHIN’.)

Advertisements

8 responses to “To Sleep, Perchance to Dream. (Or not. Not dreaming would be ok, too. EVEN BETTER, actually.)

  1. Ugh, sounds bad. First of all I have to compliment you on your goal of getting up at 4am to go to the gym. That boggles my mind.

    I had terrible insomnia when I was taking wellbutrin. This went on for years. I don’t know how I functioned frankly. Since I’ve been off of the meds, about one month, I’ve been sleeping like a baby (well, klonopin helps). It’s amazing how lack of sleep can affect your entire way of life. And then to add weird dreams to the mix makes it so much worse.

    I also had really weird dreams last night, but I don’t remember a single thing about them which is unusual for me. Maybe your brain was trying to tell me something too.

    Don’t you hate it when little parts of last night’s dreams pop into your head throughout the day the next day? I call it a dream hangover. Ick.

  2. Having vivid dreams means that you’re not getting the deep, good quality sleep. So you’re not giving yourself permission to get into the dreamless state where you REALLY rest, which is how I get when I’m anxious about something. And anxiety dreams too? Yep, there’s something going on! I liked your idea (when I was having nightmares) of addressing your subconscious aloud and trying to tell it to get through to you another way….

    Hope you manage to recuperate a bit over the weekend….

    TA x

  3. When you dream like that I think Ive read your bod is struggling to get to REM and replenish all of its stores…could it be that you are simply WIPED and too exhausted to let go and rest??

  4. Welcome to my world….. won’t you come on in….

    Ahem.

    I’ve been in the same situation ever since I embarked upon this wonderful journey through menopause (or the valley of hot flashes/night sweats/mood swings/weight gain hell) oh those many years ago.

    Not sayin’ you’re starting menopause, simply sayin’ I can relate. Add those sleep disturbances to the hot flashes all day long (which make me feel like I cannot breath), and it’s a wonder I get anything done….
    sigh.

    Hope your subconscious finally gets the lead out and lets you know what the hell is up so you can get some rest! 🙂

  5. I took my name POD from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Mostly cuz POD is so non-descript. (sort of like some of your dream.) I too, have an internal alarm clock, annoying as hell.
    Get some sleep this weekend. Maybe 4am is just too early.

  6. oh, I hope you can get some sleep. everything feels harder without enough sleep.

    I’m sending you some sleep vibes.

    On the bright side, being invisible in a dream usually symbolizes a sudden change for the better.

    xo

  7. I get vivid dreams when I try using sleeping pills. Why aren’t the ones you remember ever happy dreams about doing wonderful things in beautiful places?

  8. Thanks, Harriet. Yeah, I don’t function well on not enough sleep. Geez.

    TA and Miz, I think you’re probably right: too much going on in my head right now. Some good, some bad, but ALL busybusybusy, you know?

    Oh, BL, I’m sorry to hear that you’re going through insomnia. That SUCKS, bigtime.

    POD, I don’t really think it’s the early mornings. Normally I go to bed around 8:30 or 9:00 (yeah: I’M a partier!), and I feel really good the next day. But I have to admit that when I’m dreaming, I’m not rested.

    Thanks, Sarah! Wow, I hope you’re right about changes for the better. That would be AWESOME.

    Hee. Merry, I think I’ve only ever remember one or two really GOOD dreams. It would be nice if we remembered those instead of the weird ones, wouldn’t it?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s