28 April 2006

The Dreaming Tree

I've been having very vivid dreams of late. So vivid that when I wake up, I'm struck with the urge to get up in the middle of the night and write them down. I did that a few years ago, but stopped because in the harsh glare of morning light, they usually ended up looking like so much gibberish.

I have recurring nightmares that I remember all too well, but more positive dreams are not something I end up remembering, so the vivid dreams of the past few nights have been fun. The recurring nightmare, I think, is a manifestation of fears of abandonment that I have. The dream takes the same path, even thought the circumstances change. I'm running away from something or someone, and I'm in a crowd of people, and I can't scream, or the whole crowd is ignoring me en masse. I wake up in the midst of an asthma attack or gasping for breath, which is the beginning of an asthma attack. My darling husband, after witnessing this phenomenon for the first time when we were newly married, told me that I had been making sounds in my sleep. Sort of pitiful moans, low and deep in my throat, not something I can adequately describe with words. I told him about the nightmare, and that I'd been having it for years and years and years, and now he wakes me up when I start making that noise. Thank god for that, it saves me from feelings of utter terror when I wake myself up.

The more fun dreams, though, have been about me meeting one of my idols, although they’re weird dreams as well. I’ve written before about my teenage obsession with a rock band, Def Leppard, and about what a hottie I thought the lead singer was when I was 14. (Well, yes, since you ask, I still think he’s cute, but my husband is much sexier.) The first dream was that I had the chance to meet him, and hubby was right there with me, and just as the rock star turned to speak to me, I woke up. Kind of like the cable going out during a really important scene in a movie, no? But I can tell you all about where we were, the colors on the walls, what the rock star had on, what I had on, what my husband was wearing, even the details of the chairs we were sitting in, what the tickets that we had to the event looked like. The dream itself is not so strange, as I’ve been listening to the CDs my sister-in-law got me a lot. So it seems realistic to me that the band or the music would show up in my dreams when I’m spending more time listening to it during the day. What’s weird to me is the striking colors, the reach-out-and-touch-it quality of the surroundings in each dream. I never remember stuff like that. Wonder what it means? The smart alec side of me says, hey, bright girl, try listening to some DAVE instead. Did I mention that I have tickets to ALLL the shows near my hometown? And I spent the day listening to O.A.R.'s "In between Now and Then", about 4 times or so, and perhaps they will show up tonight.

Soundtrack? Tuesday's Coming, by O.A.R., stuck in my head courtesy of hearing it several times today.

1 comment:

Amanda Marlaena said...

My brother and I used to watch MTV on Friday nights (or was it Saturday nights? One of the two weekend nights, anyway ...), just so we could call our votes in to the 800-number on our TV screen.

Surely, you know to what contest I refer: The one where obliging parents everywhere paid $2.95 per call, so that their children's voices could be heard on the critical question of whether Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" would defend its longstanding status as # 1 on the MTV charts ... or whether some up-and-coming song from Poison or Quiet Riot would usurp the title.

My brother and I always voted for "Pour Some Sugar On Me," of course, and we waited anxiously each week for the results to be revealed at the end of the evening.

Ah, to be young again.