Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Now it begins...

...the worst part of the 24-hour cycle.

I can still clearly remember some horrifying dreams from early childhood. Some were surreal, some frighteningly realistic. They seem absurd now, but to a three- or four year-old, they were rough to deal with. There were more than a few nights when I woke up, weeping and shivering, and couldn't go back to sleep.

Two dreams came along later that recurred at irregular intervals for many years. They, too, were sleep-wreckers.

But none had the impact of dreams I've been having recently. I'd call them nightmares, but by strict definition they are not. They are, in fact wonderful, warm dreams, full of joy and -- yes -- love.

PARENTHETICAL IT-AIN'T-LIKE-THAT NOTE: Seldom, if ever, do they involve sex directly, like the dreams teenage boys (and, I suppose, girls) have. It's there, all right, but less the overt act than the gentle aftermath.

They are as intricate and complete as real life. I see faces, hear voices, all with as much clarity as waking moments. Sometimes, I hear singing. I would swear there is touch as well as sight and sound.

The nightmare begins when I awaken and realize they are only dreams, can never be anything but dreams. At one time that might not have been so; now, I am enough of a realist to know they are instruments of torture, evil taunts from whatever the source of dreams may be.

Because of them, because I never know what triggers them, I do not like to sleep. I try the common remedies -- reading until I can read no longer, for one -- but nothing works. I suppose drinking myself into insensibility might work, but there are unpleasant consequences to that, too.

What I do know is that I would trade the dreams -- with either of the sweet apparitions that appear in them (they seem to take turns) -- for my reality. Without hesitation.

But that's no more possible than expecting them to come true.

So nightmares they are, and nightmares they will remain.

And tonight, like every night, I will try to postpone sleep. I fear it.

If they visit me, I will start the new day exhausted, dispirited and melancholy. If they don't, I'll merely be exhausted, for fighting the need to rest is unhealthy too.

9 comments:

betty said...

I so understand what you're talking about. I think that's why I sleep better during the day, I don't dream. Here's wishing you many nights of dreamless sleep or, if you must dream, pleasant dreams. {{hugs}}

Anonymous said...

That sucks...

I use sleep aids, otherwise I'm awake constantly, and these days I'd rather dream than face reality most of the time...
Wish I knew what to tell you...
You're in my thoughts and prayers though, and have been.
Take care friend,
The doors open here anytime...
Woofy

sugarcane said...

Maybe your dreams are telling you that love WILL come, when you're ready to take it in... You seem like a lovable kind of guy to me...

Kim said...

How depressing. Can't you watch a horror film and have that in your head instead?

justfly said...

I have had a couple of those dreams about a close friend of mine that committed suicide. It is like an out of body experience.
It was quite unsettling when I awoke.
At the same time I wish for another one. It felt so real.

I still wish you would find a new group to join, whether it be birdwatching/hiking/traveling. Something where you could meet new people.

Good Luck Scribbs...I worry about you.

John said...

maybe sleeping pills
It is worth getting sleep. Without it, reality gets even stranger.

Birdie said...

bird watching... good idea JustFly! tweet tweeet

Birdie *wink*

Anonymous said...

"...And you cry, because you do not know if you are Emperor Chou, dreaming you are a butterfly, or if you are a butterfly dreaming of being Emperor Chou."

-nullmuse

MrScribbler said...

nullmuse -- I think I read that in a fortune cookie once.... ;-)