Therapeutic Dreaming…

In some sense I slept all day today. Why I say some sense is because the morning hours are a tad bit questionable, but I likely slept through them with various moments of waking. After that I got up, got groceries, did some chores, ate lunch and somewhere around two or so fell asleep. Usually I can be quite troubled when I find myself sleeping copious amounts. This time, however, I feel it was likely needed for therapeutic reasons.

When it comes to dealing with stress, most people seem to seek relief in exercise, meditation, food or getting lost in some sort of media. For me, it is sleep. It has been this way ever since I’ve been given the freedom to sleep when my body needs it rather than by trying to sleep by the standards of the real world.

This isn’t to say I never tried to sleep like other people. I’ve tried so by my own will and by sleep aids. Nevertheless, like with many things, trying to keep up with the beat of the common tune only seems to harm, because in truth… even if I force myself to function like the majority, it never does become normal for me. Not many people believe this, when I tell them. Even those I have been or am close to, not even my psychologist believes this. They seem to think it is a case of not trying hard enough.

I know, though. I have had to experience all of it. They were never there 24/7 and even if they were, they would never know the mental, emotional and physical toll forcing myself to function like others can be. They have never been there when the stress has finally settled long enough to override the medication that usually does help manage many of my “problems”. They don’t see me begin to cycle. They don’t see me become desperate to cut or begin to develop suicidal thoughts.

Sure, they may be informed second hand when I am in a rather bland state, or have read these occasional writings I’ll compose. Admittedly, I know of but one person who does believe me and doesn’t think it is lack of effort, being paralyzed by fear or negativity or whatever other excuse one might come up with. She isn’t there 24/7, she cannot experience exactly what I go through… but she has been there during breaking points, she has seen my efforts and she listens enough to understand and believe my decisions.

Anyway, I have gotten quite off track. I slept from around two to ten this afternoon and evening. There was little to possibly no case of actual waking up briefly. No, it was a deep sleep full of dreams and over time, knowing I’ve dreamed ensures I did get a good rest.

While in the beginning the dreams were what I’d consider normal ones for me, in time they took a darker turn. It is funny. The darker turn happened in a segment where I was in a setting full of polished wood tables, seats with leather cushions and people that dealt with the government. From what I could tell it had to do with the recent election and a possibility that Trump might not actually serve as President of the US depending on certain information they were investigating. Sitting at one of these tables, I saw my father and a few other men… I think one was a lawyer or some sort of representative for those hoping that the investigation would not go in Trump’s favor.

In any case, people at a separate table who were to decide the outcome came to their conclusion. What the conclusion was, I have no idea and I really didn’t care. What I noticed, however, was that my dad was no longer in the room. In turn, there slowly was a feeling of unease. Looking to the exit doors, Kyle of all people appeared. Relieved to see him, I met him and we left through the doors.

We went down some stairs, but upon reaching the first floor, I began to feel unease again. I saw what looked like open paint cans and for some reason they hinted to me that something was wrong. As Kyle and I continued on, I noticed how empty the halls were, how white, yet somewhat dingy the walls were… it was reminiscent to something you’d see in a horror movie. Then I caught sight of a girl. Pale and a sort of dinginess similar to the walls, I knew we were indeed in danger. Learning this as well, Kyle tried to duck us into the men’s room due to the strange thought that she wouldn’t follow us there. I doubted this, because the girl didn’t strike me as human anymore. Then, looking to where a sink could be seen, I noticed someone was in there. This person looked to be of similar state as the previously mentioned girl.

I tried to pull Kyle out of there with me, but we got separated. He was still in the men’s room, I was just outside of it. Though the door shut, it was like a stall door, though. There was a foot of empty space at the bottom. We had both been tackled to the floor, almost mirrors of each other, as the humanoid monsters were ripping at our lower bodies… quite likely feeding.

I believe things shifted then. There were other dreams… one where I was in my grandma’s living room watching a show with others… people I didn’t recognize. A young girl sat to my left and there was something very strange about her. I don’t remember this dream very well, but it might have had cannibalism in it as well… I think I somehow defeated her, but even stranger, at some point I entered my grandma’s dining room. There were two characters show my mother and I watch – a father and his son. I had tons of bacon on hand, but I knew it really wasn’t bacon. I cut it up and divided the meat among them. They could tell there was something strange about the bacon, but ate it anyway.

Another point in my dreaming, I was in the bedroom I slept in with my sister as a child. It was dark and I was watching a VHS tape. I don’t remember much about the tape, but at some point the entire room went black. I had a distinct feeling I wasn’t alone and fumbled to silence the video player by hitting the stop button, but unfortunately hit the rewind button instead. In the black room, all one could hear was the whirling of the tape being rewound. I did my best to keep my breathing as silent as possible. Again, I had no idea if I was alone in the room or not…

In another dream, I recall being in what seemed to be my eldest brother’s room as we were kids. Something odd and horror-like happened there, too. It is too foggy now… I think there was something that appeared on his television screen that had mainly been showing snow due to not receiving anything. After said image appeared, some shadowy spook and some guy also appeared and I think it somehow shifted to either the guy, or maybe it was me, being in front of an oncoming 4×4…

The last one I really remember, which I think was the final dream I had before waking, dealt with being in the shower. I was in the stall, still dressed to some degree, but getting clean as best I could despite the clothing. I got out and again, there was just a feeling… a bad, uneasy feeling. Behind me was a frosted glass wall and door and beyond that was the other half of the bathroom as well as the door that led out. I didn’t bother to leave the space I was in. Instead I did my best to lock the frosted glass door since it did have a latch for locking. I could never tell if it truly stuck or not. I then worked on getting dressed in dry clothes, but the dread that something bad would enter remained…

I think I woke up after that.

Anyway, with those horror story dreams, most would think that it must have been like a terrifying, endless nightmare for me. Strangely, I only categorize those as “bad dreams” at best. It likely has to do with my very literal take on words. Yeah, there was unease through out and maybe some vague feelings of fear… but I don’t consider that enough to be a nightmare. For me a nightmare will actually make my heart beat loudly and quite possibly cause me to wake due to fear.

As it goes, though… looking back at the “process”, I can only conclude those eight hours resulted in some good therapy for my mind, emotions and in turn physical well-being. Dreaming is the only way I know how to let my subconscious come to the front, run free and be expressed… and once that is achieved, it usually no longer lingers in the back of my mind.