Dream — Temporary Madness

I think I've always been fascinated by dreams. I remember being very young and waking up excitedly from a nap, I think. We had been somewhere that day and seen a rainbow, and then I dreamed about that rainbow. My little mind was thrilled at the realization that I was dreaming about something I had seen.

As years passed, I learned more about scientific understanding of dreams. I learned about REM sleep and the mind's mechanism for processing information subconsciously. I was surprised to learn that not everyone dreams in full color or with sound, the way I did (and do). And I learned about dream analysis, and how hit-or-miss that could be.

Dreaming for me goes in cycles. There are some times when I'll awaken and remember dreams vividly. Then there are times when I'll go weeks or months without remembering any of my dreams. Sometimes I'll even have premonitional dreams. I won't remember anything about the dream when I wake up, but some time later, I'll find myself in a situation and I'll just know that I've seen it before - in a dream. On one occasion, I found myself remembering the conversation and realized what was happening. I knew that a certain question was coming, and I could remember how I had answered it. So when that question came up, I intentionally answered it differently. In the end, however, the conversation turned out exactly the same as I had remembered anyway. It kind of freaked me out.

I had two dreams last night that I can remember pretty clearly. In the first, I was a superhero. I was part of a team, and we were fighting against some powerful madman. He would systematically capture members of the team and try to bribe and/or bully them into working for him. The rest of us would then have to attack the villain's headquarters and break out our teammates. I remember going into a fight with only one other teammate with me - responding to a sneak attack, perhaps? Then I remember being in the villain's lair, waking up with a headache and feeling generally rotten. He handed me a cup full of something and told me to drink it. I did, and it tasted like Thera-Flu. I said, "Thank you." And that's where it ended.

The other dream was much shorter. I was a soldier, and I had been deployed with a lot of other soldiers. We were in the desert, it seems, and airplanes just kept coming in, dropping more soldiers and support vehicles with each pass. I was talking with someone about it, trying to explain things to someone who didn't understand what was going on. A reporter, maybe. That's about all I remember.

I don't know what it all means. Were Freud still alive, he would probably tell me it had something to do with repressed desires for my mother, or something similarly helpful.^¤ One dream was quite fantastic, while the other was much more realistic. There was the common element of conflict in both dreams. Does this mean that my brain is trying to work out some sort of inner struggle? I don't know. I don't feel particularly conflicted with anyone or anything at the moment. Or maybe underlying theme is a struggle rather than conflict. Maybe the dreams are trying to tell me to keep going, and not to quit fighting. That would seem to make more sense. On the other hand, maybe it's just something I ate last night. I just don't know.

It gives me something to think about, anyway. Now, however, the demands of the real world start to make themselves felt. I've got to leave for choir practice in just over ninety minutes, and I haven't eaten or showered yet. Time to wake up.

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^¤That's the way it is with Freud: "If it isn't one thing, it's your mother." (quoted from Robin Williams)