When I read the first of Essin' Em's 30 Days Of Letters (Done before her by other bloggers whom I keep intending to read in length), I was intrigued. And now I'm giving it a go myself.
Like the person whose blog brought me to doing these letters, I’m not sure if I ought to be addressing this to those of you who make my sleep interesting, or the ones that I wish to achieve in waking life. I choose the first, though - as my life is in such a state of flux that I’m not sure just what I want out of it.
So. What hell? You have always been unsettlingly vivid; from the giant sunflower chasing me around Hawkins Lake as a toddler to the rather awkward makeout session with a friend of an ex, I frequently wake from you with a clear picture in my head of the entire dream. At one point, I could control you enough that I could will myself to run and fly, and then I lost that at some point.
I don’t mind you all the time. Good dreams, such as ones where my life becomes everything I want, or that threesome with A and someone I certainly wouldn’t mind boning into next Friday, leave me content, if minorly frustrated with their not being true.
But then you give me the nightmares. Deliver me from these terrors! At least twice weekly it’s a retinue of everyone I love dying, everyone leaving me, rejection, anger, pain. Sometimes you even throw in me killing myself, playing on the depression that still occasionally rears its ugly head and threatens to swallow me whole. Why can’t you always be fluffy bunnies and sex? Why must you leave me to awaken in tears, shaking and scared?
Why must you sometimes come true? Nothing as drastic as death or the whole world hating me, but the nightmare of being raped? I could have done without actually seeing the men who did it, who I had never seen before in my life, weeks later. Sometimes, you draw on my experience with Montana, and then I am truly terrified that it isn’t really a dream, that he really has come back to finish what he started years ago.
I would never give up my ability to have and remember you, but at times, I wish I could at least turn you off when you’re going down a dark path...