I'm Not Who I Dream

Today has been a very physically painful day. The best remedy I've found is to take enough painkillers to help and then try to slip off into sleep. If I'm lucky it happens quickly, not so lucky it takes a while, and vastly unlucky I end up going to the ER for pain relief. Today was the luckiest I have been in a long time. I fell asleep almost immediately and for the first time in a very long time, I dreamed. Not the dreams where you wake up and realize 'eh...I think I dreamed' but the vivid ones which stay with you.

When I was little I had vivid dreams, mostly nightmares, almost every night and even when napping. Most of them I died in, the majority were sad, and some were downright terrifying. Not until I was in my mid-teens did the vivid dreams disappear. I have never missed them and neither do I analyze the events in them (no matter how much this disappointed my former coworker/professional psychic).

Reality turned Upside Down

My dream today reminded me of a question asked about my dreams, "are you 'healthy' in your dreams?" I have never actually thought about it. If dreams are some desire of our self-conscious then shouldn't I be? Since becoming ill I have never woken with a memory regarding my physical state in a dream. I know I've dreamed, vaguely remember the dream topic, but there was no RED ALERT : Your Body is 100% A-Okay Healthy! This afternoon was the first time I have woken up with a vivid memory of my physical state...and it..confused me.

The dream scenario was not unfamiliar, the people I did not know, and neither did I know where the place was. I did, however, know I was happy. Vivid conversation snatches remain where I am not only smiling but laughing. Something very much like the non-dream me. Only in this dream I remember completely the feel of my wheelchair, of sitting in it with my feet on the rests and the smooth metal under my fingertips. There was a feeling of normalcy to the whole situation. As if no other life existed where I worked out stress on the university elliptical, once took figure skating lessons, and did high ropes courses blindfolded with shoelaces tied together. This me was entirely at peace with how life was, is, and would forever be. There was someone behind me pushing my chair, something which I will never be happy having to rely on in reality, but I was just thrilled to be talking to them as they pushed me where I was to go.

I never got to see the entire dream. After three hours of me solidly sound

asleep my father woke me up. And I quote, "to make sure you were still with us." Good to know they don't fear me dying in my sleep at all.

I don't pretend to understand my subconscious. Honestly, I think it's better if I don't start digging into it for answers. However, if it were a physical form I might have punched it by  now. What the heck's up with dreaming in my wheelchair? Aren't dreams supposed to be an escape? What kind of subconscious crap is this happy-happy wheelchair time? What happened to all those fantastical dreams of yesteryear?

For reasons unknown this dream bothers me more than all the death dreams combined. I think because the person in the dream seemed to have forgotten the life prior to being chronically ill and the hope of a healthy future. There's no way whatsoever I am ever ever going to lock myself in a happy bubble forgetting the inconveniences of this life. Our past experiences (no matter what they may be) and our hopes for the future make us who we are at the present. I am not going to stop believing there is a future for me regardless of my health status. 

 As for the other non-Freudian dream theories: I rather like the idea of the subconscious being responsible for this one. It's harder to be frustrated with strengthening semantic memories or analyzing sensory information via dreams.

Positive Thought of the Day: Today's dreaming disappointments only make me all the more passionate for a happier tomorrow.