I had a dream last night that makes letting go of all that is bothering me seem easy, simply because it illuminated the alternative as something so horrifying that no halfway sane person would knowingly pursue it.
I woke up feeling humiliated, actually, for something I'd done in the dream, but would absolutely never do in real life. It's something that someone in a movie would do, pushed to a place where they felt a need for expression or connection or whatever it is that keeps us from offing ourselves. I guess that's where our subconscious comes into play - filtering out all of those "things we'd never do" so we never, actually, have to do them.
I collided with several people I know, last night in my sleep. They weren't nice to me, and I was definitely in a weakened position, for some reason. This is especially odd because in real life, I don't have this kind of relationship with these people. It's egalitarian all the way. It's interesting to be reminded that it hurts almost as much to be humiliated when you're sleeping by yourself as it does when you're wide awake in front of other people.
I'm not even sure where I was, but obviously I wasn't invited. A friend I trust very much found me there, and very cruelly (in tone and words), let me know that I needed to leave immediately. There were other people there who I didn't recognize. Of course I left wherever this was, as a fear of intruding is one of my basic anxieties, along with staying somewhere where my presence isn't wanted. I don't know where I went, because if there's one thing consistent about even the dreams I do remember, it's that they never have an ending. They tend to drift on until morning, making it hard to wake up, especially when it's a weekend and I'm not motivated by an alarm. I sort of lay there, forcing myself into sleep, trying to catch the end, or some resolution, but not quite being able to...It's elusive. And the more fragmented and lighter sleep becomes, the more the pictures change, and become something else entirely - I'm shopping in Target instead of having that intense conversation my mind was trying to finish.
This is like my life in a way, come to think of it. Scary.
No matter what I can't remember from last night, I can just sense, still, a feeling of such loss and sadness that it's colored my morning. I think it's because I rarely remember my dreams that when I do they have such an impact. I know I dream, but almost as soon as I wake up, someone turns the kaleidoscope in my brain, and discrete, specific images splinter into a million different colors and shapes, most of it blurry. Occasionally I'll grab onto a face, or a location. More rarely, I'll remember a few words that someone said, but that's it.
I've had people close to me tell me their dreams off and on over the years, and I think I've been sort of jealous that they can remember them in such detail - that somehow I lack the mental clarity that allows one to track internal dialogue to the letter, and locations down to street signs and paint colors. I just don't have it. And I don't understand enough about the neurological processes of dreaming to know what makes the pictures sharper, the retention better, or the meaning more clear. I don't think there is a scientific means of explaining that last bit, but I could be wrong.
Anyway, this morning is cloudy. And although I went to sleep feeling good, I didn't consent to the ticket to wherever that horror show was I attended involuntarily last night. I really didn't need it. But I guess it's better that it's out of wherever it was trapped in my brain, and it's been released.