Stressful Nonsense

I always have stressful and/or bizarre dreams.  They aren't often what I would classify as a nightmare, but they are always filled with some kind of conflict, loss, worry or stress.  How I wish I could just have a happy go-lucky dream of flying over the ocean amidst rainbows and pretty birds (that don't poop on me)!  After 35 years, I have given up and resigned myself to the fact that I have whack-o dreams.  It is what it is.  I almost always remember my dreams in detail, which means that I am never in a deep sleep.  Most of the time I can piece together sections of my day and explain away the specifics, but not always.  Sometimes I really wonder what my subconscious is trying to work out.

Last night I dreamed that I was back in college, but I wasn't living in a dorm.   I was living alone in an old haunted brick house.  One of my current good friends (meaning I met her way after college) was helping me get my things ready to go home for the summer.  She had painted the staircase inside the house and had done a lot of my packing for me.  I loaded up my things, said goodbye and got in the car to drive home.  I was supposed to call my friend when I got on the road, but I never really got on the road.  I was continually stalled by various things.  First I had to get gas, but when I tried to go to the gas station, I realized I was on the wrong side of a road with a fairly extensive divider.  I had to drive a good while before I could find my way to another gas station.  When I finally arrived at a gas station, I went inside and got two bottles of water for the ride.   At first, there was no one in the store aside from me, but just as I was about to pay, a large number of people appeared out of nowhere and jumped in front of me.  Suddenly, I had to stand in a huge line.    Just as I was about to be rung up, I realized that I left my bag, with my wallet, back at the college house.  So I turned around and went back to school.  Instead of grabbing my bag and leaving, I decided to just stay in the house and unpack my things.  My cell phone rang, and it was Loretta, wondering why I hadn't called.  She was worried about me.  I talked to her and explained my hassles as I unpacked my things.  Her tone was grim.  She was very worried about some of the people I had been hanging out with at work, and she proceeded to tell me who was untrustworthy and who was probably OK, except the people she talked about were not my coworkers.  They weren't my college friends either.  The names she gave me were of various people from high school!  Then she told me haunting stories about the house I was staying in.  While I was talking to her, I came across a photo of two of my cousins and me when we were little.  I couldn't figure out the picture, so I took it out of the frame, and concealed by the frame was my grandmother playing what looked to be a video game.  I studied the picture for a while and then realized that it must have been taken after she had her stroke.  It had to be a photo of us visiting her while she was in some kind of therapy session.  I was still on the phone with Loretta, who told me that I needed to go to the video store to rent a movie called "The Brick House."  It was about the house I was staying in.  The movie held the key to some kind of algebraic equation related to the brick infrastructure of the house, and people were going to find me, wanting to know answers about the house.  It was crucial that I get and watch that video immediately.  I was afraid to watch it by myself so I asked my uncle, who at some point arrived in the dream, but he said he didn't have time, and my aunt was sleeping - by this time, it was dark in my dream.  So I drove to the video store alone and along the way I saw my grandmother in a convertible with two gay men doing speech therapy.  She was apparently still recovering from her stroke.  The men were quizzing her with simple questions and having her repeat simple words.  I don't remember much of that part of the dream, except that my grandmother was wearing yellow and her speech sounded like that of a toddler.  And the two gay men were blond and wearing short sleeved pink polo shirts. At this point in the dream, I was driving through the Wehnwood section of Altoona.  I wasn't sure where to rent a movie, because to my knowledge, most of the video stores were out of business.  I was driving over a hill, heading into downtown Altoona, when I realized that I had a friend who lives a few streets away from me in my car, along with her two daughters, Greg, Jacob and Andrew. Andrew likes to drive fast over hills so he can lose his stomach (that part is true, not just a dream thought), so I stepped on the gas and flew up over a hill (we were now driving past the Bavarian Club in Altoona, which is on a steep hill and has a huge parking lot across the street).  I was driving too fast and hit the hill too hard.  The front of my car hit the road and blew out one of my tires.  While Greg was fixing the tire, the kids all got out of the car and started running around around the parking lot.  Andrew ran in one direction and then another.  The older kids ran to the baseball field behind the parking lot and found a playground to play on, but I couldn't find Andrew.  I was yelling after him at the top of my lungs, but suddenly there were tons of cars around the parking lot and out of nowhere a band started playing.  There were people everywhere.  I couldn't see Andrew, and I knew there was no way that he could hear me calling for him.  I kept screaming and screaming for him, pushing though people, running and searching for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere.  I lost my voice.   I remembered my neighbor telling me about a time when her boys got lost on a camping trip and she prayed to God to have the strength to keep calling for them (again, that part really happened and she eventually found her boys).  I prayed for my voice to return, but it didn't.  Instead, I started coughing uncontrollably.  I tried to make my way back to Greg to get help, but I couldn't even explain why I was so upset through all the coughing.  I was frantic and angry that God didn't help me find my voice to save my child and the coughing just got worse and worse until I woke up, literally choking.

Ahh....Good morning.

...and I wonder why I still don't feel rested, even when I actually sleep!