My last post, not my finest moment. So not fine that I didn’t share it on Facebook like I usually do. I got up this morning and looked at what I had written the night before, and thought about all those things that I haven’t shared. It certainly was easy to write about. I decided that it won’t hurt anything. Oh hell, ok. So I published it.
The anxiety dreams last night didn’t help my case. Oh I had weird ones. The one that stands out was the one where my dog became the Don Juan of the neighborhood, impregnating every female dog in a five mile radius of our house. Yeah, we’re going to get the dog fixed next week whether we can afford it or not. I can’t be responsible for an explosion of dog population in this small town.
That’s not the weirdest one I’ve had. I’ve had some doozeys. I’m not sure how you are supposed to spell doozey.
I often dream I’m losing my children. I’m always losing things, so I’m not surprised. In real life I’ve actually only lost my son once. He ran ahead of the stroller and disappeared into the crowd at a home football game. Don’t worry, he came back. But that was the longest two minutes of my life.
My personal favorite is one I had about a month or so ago. I dreamed we were going to Target (imagine that, in my life all roads lead to Target) and I lost my daughter. Not exactly in Target. There was a very big hill in front of the store. For some reason, there was just this big grassy hill instead of a parking lot (I don’t know where we parked… details, details…). Princess Naughty ran down the hill so fast I couldn’t catch her and disappeared into the revolving door (I don’t know of any Targets that have a revolving door, do you?) She reappeared later in my dream, but then I lost my son. He went somewhere in the car with my husband, and I couldn’t get a hold of them on my cell phone. Which is perfectly normal. My husband is notorious for either not having his phone, having it on silent, no knowing it’s dead, or just plain not hearing it. He’s getting better, but he’s the reason why I pay for a texting plan-whenever he gets around to looking at his phone, I hope he may see my text.
I have the school dream several times a week. I’m back in (choose one): a) high school b) college c) elementary school d) obedience school. I a) have never been to class b) have a test I haven’t studied for c) leave for school but never actually get there because I get sidetracked by half a million things d) never put on clothes. Or it’s the work dream. I’m at a) Kmart b) where I taught music c) one one of the daycares I worked at d) the preschool I worked at e) my associate job f) the clothing store job. I a) oversleep/don’t go b) have an evaluation c) am on my way but never actually make it to work d) never put on clothes.
Do you see a pattern here? Anxiety is FUN!
Another classic is the one where my husband leaves me. I have been left because a) he didn’t like dinner b) he met a hot veterinarian c) he met a hot guy d) I did something he didn’t like e) I have no idea. It’s always a relief to wake up to him snoring. I tell him about these dreams, he just shakes his head. I guess I’m safe-we’ll have been married for almost thirteen years and he hasn’t stormed out over dinner yet.
There are others too. Many of the dreams I just plain can’t find something REALLY important. I shouldn’t be surprised by that one, since that happens quite frequently to me. My life is one big brain fart.
I really think if I ever get to therapy they’d probably write a book about me. I hope I get some kickback from it, because I could really use the dough.
The anxiety itself has been much better these days thanks to a very effective anti anxiety medication. I hated to do it, but the doctor really didn’t want to see me dead due to a heart attack. I had been dealing with a racing heart and constantly being on the edge of a panic attack for the last few months. While it doesn’t really help with other stuff, like moodiness, it’s nice to feel like I can deal with life rationally. Like laugh at these dreams I’m having (I suppose the anxiety has to manifest itself somehow). Enjoy my life. And write this blog.
Have you ever had an anxiety dream? Was it funny or freaky? I find mine a combination of both. And that’s ok.