It's not the best start to a day when you have had a bad dream and the feelings stay with you, throbbing at the limits of your memory and leaving you with the mental equivalent of having swallowed unexpected bile. It's particularly annoying, as, let's face it, who recalls their dreams accurately? Usually, all you get is (in my case, what with the teeth-grinding fun): a headache, neck pain, nagging feelings of doubt and doom, and possibly suspicion of those around you, if the protagonist was one of your nearest and dearest, or a colleague (this latter scenario is especially strange). I've had some intensely bizarre and bizarrely intense dream action involving various family and friends (and, ok, people I can't stand) over the years.
Despite being an adult, or trying to be, I still cannot quite traverse that line between the subconscious splatterings of my untidy sleeping mind and the clear thoughts of daytime (in theory, in theory...). I recall going to work one morning many years ago, convinced that a chap called Yann was about to randomly get up from his manky black office chair, whirl around in the middle of the newsroom, making his cloak appear as he did so, and cast terrible spells on us, having turned into a wizard or something of that ilk. I stared at him all day. Then there are the dreams of planes crashing. Those aren't so good when you live nearish to the flight path of one of London's busiest airports. Hmm.
One thing I have noticed is that if I sleep on my back, with my hands on my stomach or chest, I always have a bad dream. The good thing is that by lying that way, I usually fall asleep within minutes (take that, insomnia, you fool!), but the sacrifice I make is that I'll be awake – with a jolt – once I get into REM sleep (something that insomnia took from me, making me slightly crazed). What to do? How should I lie down? I can't lie on my stomach, which is my preferred sleeping position, as I have lower back pain at present and the twist in my spine if I am on my front hurts rather a lot. On to my back it is. Oh dear.
No comments:
Post a Comment