Dreams, the bad kind

I’ve been having dreams, the bad kind. The kind that wakes you at three in the morning. The kind you wake yourself up from because you don’t want to be dreaming that any more. The kind you talk yourself out of by repeating “it was just a dream, it was just a dream”. The kind that keeps you up, because you are afraid if you fall back to sleep you’ll continue dreaming it. That kind of dream, the bad kind.

I don’t know if it’s because I have a lot on my plate this week at work, with a few big things due soon. If it’s that Mike’s out of town and I’m feeling it. If it’s that I’m really tired because it’s just me taking care of the boys and Charlotte all by myself (it’s a lot of work, with early mornings and sometimes interrupted nights). Or if my unconscious is trying to tell me something and I’m just not getting it.

Mike says that because I’m off coke zero and drinking tons of water now, my body is detoxing from the bad stuff and thus now I’m dreaming more. He has a theory that when we have too many chemicals in us, our body is sort of blocked, we don’t sleep as well, and thus don’t dream, or at least don’t remember our dreams.

I don’t know, I’ve never heard such a thing. I tend to remember my dreams regardless of the crap I’m eating, because believe me, I’ve eaten a lot of crap in my life (e.g. doritos, potato chips, ice cream, cookies, sweets and candy galore, etc), and have always dreamt. What I want to know, is why the bad dreams? What is it that has me in a such a negative streak? Because the dreams, they are really, really bad.

I dreamt for example, with nazis in a killing spree (I woke myself up from that one!). I dreamt with Mike backing up with his car and running over my dog regardless of my screams and pounding on his windshield to make him stop (I woke up looking for Max and telling myself “it was just a dream…”). I dreamt with Mike telling me we had to talk because he had spent the entire weekend wanting to break-up with me, as I was getting dressed for work (I woke up with a headache from that one because I was crying inconsolably in the dream). And finally, I dreamt with an art store and its very creepy owner lady, coming up very close to me to tell me “I am 38!” while she look more like 50 (that one I didn’t understand).

So yeah, bad dreams, why am I having them?


2 responses to “Dreams, the bad kind

  1. Jenny…desacelera tu cerebro en la noche…a mi me pasaba igual pero ahora me lanzo un te doble con valeriana, passion flower etc y cualquier cantidad de cosas para dormir, ademas me tomo una pepa de Songha night una hora antes de dormir, eso sucede normalmente porque tu cerebro esta hiper estimulado y entonces te suceden esas pesadillas…


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