dreams v. DREAMS

Here’s a strange short story.

My mother used to have Dreams. The reason it’s capitalized is because they were different from your run of the mill it’s-my-house-but-not-really dreams.

Mom’s Dreams only surfaced when she was stressed to the max.  The special Dreams included (but were not limited to):

  • violent, brutal death of children/spouse
  • massive quantities of bugs and/or rodents
  • attack by killer crocodiles (in the bed)

I listened with interest as Mom or Dad would recount these dreams around the table, but as a child I could not relate. Mom’s Dreams would appear suddenly, and beset her multiple times a night (usually interrupted by Dad who would wake her up mid-attack). They would often last for several days (nights, really) and fade as whatever was going on in conscious life simmered down. If she was subjected to extended periods of stress, Dreams would be replaced by Insomnia, which she put to good use via home improvements.

My Mama’s been through a lot. I’m not going to go into details but I will say this: Dr. Pepper, 2x4s, table saws, and pneumatic nail guns at 3 a.m.

While I’ve had my fair share of nightmares and tragic dreams, I had never experienced Dreams. Until last week.

The combo of back to full-time work after a month-long break, back to school after a half-decade long break, and the all-consuming stress of not-getting-swindled while car shopping apparently triggered my latent Dream-gene.
Night-terrors ALL WEEK.

Thankfully, I didn’t remember a one of them. The only memories I have are of being woken up by Hubs, then feeling relieved, then falling back to sleep.

HUBS, however, grew increasingly concerned as the week went on. I was progressing from faint whimpers to whole sentences about getting out or getting the weapons (they varied from dream to dream), flat out yelling, and flailing about (as I tried to escape, apparently). My poor guy was continuously summoned from the couch, or awoken from sound sleeps to my panicked, incomprehensible ravings.

I may have punched him in the face once. I don’t remember.

I’m happy to report that with the successful purchase of our new vehicle this past Saturday “overload” has ceased and the Dreams have vanished. Now the only thing waking me up is the stupid cat.

Who has suddenly decided she wants to sleep on my FACE at very inconvenient hours…

photo by moi

I see a 3 a.m. 2×4 in my future.


10 thoughts on “dreams v. DREAMS”

  1. My husband has a category of bad dreams he calls Threatening Urban Landscapes.
    My (recurring) stress nightmare was about drowning, often in a submerged vehicle. After years of this familiar yet always terrifying repeat, one day I wrecked my car and rolled it into a ditch. Hanging upside-down in my seatbelt, I heard the sound of trickling water and was convinced I was enacting the dream.
    I got out of that car REALLY REALLY fast.

  2. I'd say I've had my share of dreams, but not quite that violent kind… I think I usually stop at psychological terror. But then of course there is usually no one around to punch, so what do I know?

  3. The dream-gene: yikes! Glad things are back to normal. Go HUBS! (One of our cats is bothersome, but only to my wife. I'm more prone to launch the lovely feline, and he remembers.) Just a thought: cats understand tough love.

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