Ever wondered what it must be like to dream in fulltechnicolour every night, where you recall every unusual and unrelated dream
sequence, whether it be attempting to drive the car from the back seat, being
chased down by a bevy of bullets, or at times being the one who is doing the
chasing, as if playing the lead role in a Spielberg blockbuster?
Or that frustrating type, when you are trying to shout, but
no one can hear you? Or that sinking feeling of utter embarrassment that you
are in a public place, sans clothes?
no one can hear you? Or that sinking feeling of utter embarrassment that you
are in a public place, sans clothes?
That is me. Every. Single. Night.
It should not be surprising therefore that I never wake up feeling
fresh as the proverbial daisy. If I’m not up and down to the non-sleepingmonster
childson, it is my freakily real life dreams that can spur me into
wakefulness in the dead of night, or be so outlandish and quirky that I
literally feel bone tired from whatever activities I’ve undertaken during the
previous night’s supposed shut eye.
fresh as the proverbial daisy. If I’m not up and down to the non-sleeping
child
wakefulness in the dead of night, or be so outlandish and quirky that I
literally feel bone tired from whatever activities I’ve undertaken during the
previous night’s supposed shut eye.
Sometimes it truly does feel like you are starring in some
sort of badly written film, where scenes jump around in no logical manner. One minute I can be hiding out in a trench
during a war, machine gun at the ready and the next looking for my lost
stiletto heel in a crowded bar in a completely other country.
sort of badly written film, where scenes jump around in no logical manner. One minute I can be hiding out in a trench
during a war, machine gun at the ready and the next looking for my lost
stiletto heel in a crowded bar in a completely other country.
It’s also not uncommon for me to have someone close to me
die in a dream – always resulting in a frantic phone call from me the next
morning to said loved one to make sure they still in the land of the living and
warning them to be careful. However, it’s happened so often I am sure they are
all a bit blasé about these doom dreams of mine by now!
die in a dream – always resulting in a frantic phone call from me the next
morning to said loved one to make sure they still in the land of the living and
warning them to be careful. However, it’s happened so often I am sure they are
all a bit blasé about these doom dreams of mine by now!
Far and wide though, it’s the occult dreams that really
intrigue (and terrify!) me the most.
intrigue (and terrify!) me the most.
I recall one I which featured my Pop, a few months after he
had passed away; him standing quietly in a crowded room, his large family in
attendance. All but me were unaware of
his presence. Sitting with my Nan and recounting it to her, she asked me what
he was wearing when I saw him.
had passed away; him standing quietly in a crowded room, his large family in
attendance. All but me were unaware of
his presence. Sitting with my Nan and recounting it to her, she asked me what
he was wearing when I saw him.
“A dressy maroon shirt and black pants” I answered.
She gave me an odd look replying, “That was what he was
buried in.”
buried in.”
One of the most powerful dreams however, that still haunts
me to this day, happened while I was living in London. It was a Tuesday night, and I’d gone to bed
after a very festive dinner and drinks with my flatmates and friends. A few of our merry little gang decided to
kick on but I decided I’d need a few hours rest before making myself look
respectable for work the next day.
me to this day, happened while I was living in London. It was a Tuesday night, and I’d gone to bed
after a very festive dinner and drinks with my flatmates and friends. A few of our merry little gang decided to
kick on but I decided I’d need a few hours rest before making myself look
respectable for work the next day.
Almost 6 months had passed since a very special friend of mine had passed away. And as vivid as
if he truly was sitting on the end of my bed he appeared before me. In my
mind’s eye I can still picture with perfect clarity that very moment when he
simply appeared in my sleep, almost 9 years on.
He attempted to talk, telling me he had something
important to tell me, trying to let me know it would be ok.
if he truly was sitting on the end of my bed he appeared before me. In my
mind’s eye I can still picture with perfect clarity that very moment when he
simply appeared in my sleep, almost 9 years on.
He attempted to talk, telling me he had something
important to tell me, trying to let me know it would be ok.
I remember my heart pounding so hard that I could barely
breathe, and my mind careening like an out of control car. The situation was
far too authentic and I wrestled with anxiety and curiosity until fear won
out. I woke in a terrified sweat and
raced downstairs in a flood of tears, incomprehensible as I tried to explain what
had just happened to my bemused sister, begging her stay in my room with me.
breathe, and my mind careening like an out of control car. The situation was
far too authentic and I wrestled with anxiety and curiosity until fear won
out. I woke in a terrified sweat and
raced downstairs in a flood of tears, incomprehensible as I tried to explain what
had just happened to my bemused sister, begging her stay in my room with me.
I did not sleep another single wink that night, heart
pounding I watched the door, the window, the walls, waiting for him to reappear
with this message that I was too distressed to hear.
pounding I watched the door, the window, the walls, waiting for him to reappear
with this message that I was too distressed to hear.
He never came again that wintry London night.
Four days later, back in Australia, my Dad had a massive
heart attack. And while it was very touch and go and we came distressingly
close to losing him, he eventually was ok.
heart attack. And while it was very touch and go and we came distressingly
close to losing him, he eventually was ok.
And I knew then why Adam had come calling in my dream.
So yes, while it’s a bit ridiculous for a grown woman to
still be subject to night terrors, or some might say to even dare admit to
having these types of dreams, it’s all part of the rich texture that makes me
unique. My only concern is that my intuitive
little man seems to have inherited this ability. He can be heard shouting from his sleep, and
can recount odd memories upon waking.
still be subject to night terrors, or some might say to even dare admit to
having these types of dreams, it’s all part of the rich texture that makes me
unique. My only concern is that my intuitive
little man seems to have inherited this ability. He can be heard shouting from his sleep, and
can recount odd memories upon waking.
Blessing or curse? The jury is still out on that. While it is nice to be able to reconnect with
a lost loved one, waking up weary is, to pardon the pun, wearing thin, 32 years
on.
a lost loved one, waking up weary is, to pardon the pun, wearing thin, 32 years
on.
Feel free to regale me with your own unusual
nocturnal happenings – might make me appear a tad less abnormal!
nocturnal happenings – might make me appear a tad less abnormal!
My mum has vivid dreams where she swears there’s a message in there.
A couple came true which freaked me out so I stopped listening years ago. I didn’t know how to handle it all.
She hasn’t mentioned her dreams to me in years, unless their good ones, like someone is pregnant or something like that.
Love & stuff
Mrs M
What a wonderful gift, and yet at the same time a burden! I only remember the dreams I have right before waking up and they are usually very random and non-sensical – last night I was buying a hat! xx
what a peaceful photo. Natasha x
Hi there! Just found you through Weekend Rewind! I’m a ridiculous dreamer too. Every. Single. Night! Last night I dreamt I was a professional photographer, about my husband in a compromising position (ahem!) and about my baby’s nappy needing changing (I’m 5 months pregnant!). All very weird but all SO vivid! And it happens every night. So I completely sympathise with you – it’s exhausting….. Looking forward to reading more of your blog! B x