Strange Dreams, Life Dreams

As my anti-dream medication runs out, I’ve been cutting back on it, which means more dreams.  Today I ran out – which means the dreams will begin.

I’m not looking forward to it, though in some ways “I” am.  I’m sure we dream at night – everyone does – though I’m a light sleeper.  Very light.  Barely sleep at all.  The smallest sound will awake me – I don’t know if I go into R.E.M. or not, but I’m assuming I do.

Yesterday I had a dream.  (see that side effects of discontinuing my medication – one Medicare won’t buy for me).  In this dream ‘we’ were hunting for something . . . there was a bit of deja vu going on – when this character in my dream reminds me about something that happened in a dream from long ago, and basically asks, “How’d that go?” (Meaning whatever had happened in the dream before after ‘he’ had ‘left’.)  Just like two old friends meeting and discussing a problem they had worked on when one had left, and the other one asking him: “Whatever became of that?  Did you get ‘that’ one resolved?”

Strange dreams.  When I woke I laughed – then asked my wife if she’d ever had someone in a dream talk and remind her of a dream she’d had before (“a clue!”, I told her, having researched into vivid dreaming techniques once earlier, when I was a child and a teen.  “It lets you know – it was my hint – that I was dreaming.”)  But she said no – she’d never heard of anything so weird and crazy.  But it’s not the first first time a dream has come and bit me in some way . . .

Part of it comes (I think) from being D.I.D.  My ‘other’ parts can dream, too! – and I along with them – and sometimes (apparently) ‘we’ come together in a dream to talk/work out something.  I know it’s happened before.

A Life Dream

I tend to ask people sometimes if they’ve had a “Life Dream” – which they assume to mean some goal or ‘dream’ for their own lives – and then I have to correct them.

“No, no!,” I say, “I don’t mean a dream for life.  I mean a dream which lasts a lifetime . . .”

and then I must explain again, for some of them think I am talking about a dream which continues on each night I go to bed – becoming a ‘whole’ story – a dream I re-enter each time I go to sleep.

No, it’s not that kind of thing.

It’s the kind of dream where you live a life.  A full lifetime – from young childhood to adult and even ‘old’ age (meaning somewhat middling).  One where you grow up, become somebody (or nobody – that’s generally how it goes: just an abnormal person in a weird dreamlike world) – and you have loves and laughs and a life

and then you wake up and it’s all gone.

All the people you’ve loved; the family you made, the friends – gone.  In a single instant, the blink of a heartbeat, the ring of an alarm clock . . .

and the “life” you had is gone.

It’s a terribly destructive thing, and I’ve had at least two (or maybe three; two of I am sure, number three – just a ‘feeling’ that I’ve had one before).  They tend to affect me for days – weeks even.

Years even.

After all, that book I wrote, “The Boy” – that was based on a dream – my first “Life Dream” which I had when I was a teenager.  God, that was sad . . . losing ‘him’, losing ‘me’ – losing everything.

It hurt, and it was hard, and in the end it drove me to write a book (though I started writing immediately – therapy session for me – it took me 34 years to finish it – and I learned a LOT about my own self in it – about the conflicts between two of my alters, and a bit more about ‘some’ of them . . . it was a sad dream, a hard dream . . .)

Just like my other ‘life dream’, which I had when I was 24 (the one I don’t remember).

and the last “life dream” I had – just a few years back.  I had it while on vacation – it ruined three days for me.  Even the wife noticed something was wrong, and when I told her . . . well, she still can’t wrap her head around this idea of having (and living) a “full life” in a dream – but she can understand the idea of losing everyone you loved (somewhat).

In the end it’s always sad.

For in every dream it’s always been the same thing – me or my teenage alter wandering the roads across America with a young boy in tow . . . in some of them I have ‘been’ the young boy (partially) while also being the guy who takes care of him (Matthew).  It’s a confusing thing and a hard thing and breaks my heart every time.

I’m hoping for another life dream sometime – one I don’t ever wake up from, perhaps – one in which it all turns out good – I don’t ‘lose’ anybody and no one is harmed – there’s not the constant ‘running’ from someone (tho’ oddly enough, I don’t remember having to run from anyone in the dreams; just that I had to keep myself hidden) – and always ‘finding this boy’ (who, I guess, happens to be me) . . .

But in the last lifedream I had it was different – I was the boy growing up in a loose household of mixed folks coming and going . . . sex was going on (and often and regular) with ‘me’ as the child (recreating some of the abuse from my past) – and in this ‘last’ one “I” left my ‘house’ and hit the road . . . coming back again when I was 21 or so.  (I’m starting to think “21” is more than just a number, much like the one, “13”, who is an alternate and ‘transition’ personality from a time of much stress and change.)

And now with the drugs gone (tho’ I have some on order; holiday shopping time – things always get short (e.g. ‘dry’) come holidays . . . I know what’s gonna happen.  I’ve ‘been here’ before (e.g. that dream from the night before, LOL).  And while I know dreams are supposed to be ‘good things’ – I had nightmares for forty eight years.  I’ve reason to be dreading what’s coming up, knowing it’s the great unknown – the Land of Dreams and Sometimes of Loss and Despair . . .

Never a good thing.  Never.

But I’m going to keep my chin (and child) up, hang on, and ride out the dreams.  Perhaps they’ll tell me something.  Perhaps I’ll have a “Life Dream” again (and who, really, gets the chance to live multiple lifetimes ‘in one’?)  I’m sure it’s a “DID thing”, this “life dream” stuff and the “Hey, how’d it go in that last (reminder image) dream of yours?  Did it all work out and stuff?”

Strange life.  Strange mind.  Strange dreams.
Don’t you wish they were yours?


About jeffssong

JW is an adult childhood abuse survivor with DID*. He grew up in a violent family devoid of love and affection. He is a military brat and veteran. He no longer struggles with that past. In 1976 JW began writing "The Boy". It took 34 years to complete. It is currently on Kindle ( ), or if you prefer hard copy, on Amazon ( JW resides somewhere in the deep South. He is disabled and living with family. Note: Please feel free to take what you need; all is free to all. With that in mind, keep it that way to others. Thank you. We have 3 Blogs - One for our younger days, 0-10 (The Little Shop of Horrors); one for our Teen Alter and his 'friends' (also alters) with a lot of poetry; and finally "my" own, the Song of Life (current events and things)
This entry was posted in child abuse survivor, dissociative identity disorder, Life, The Boy and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go Ahead. You were thinking . . . ?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s