When I was in high school, I noticed that I was able to remember some of my dreams vividly and with great detail. Before then, I rarely ever dreamed, or maybe I never really noticed them. They were strange and often made no sense whatsoever. I thought that, maybe they meant something, but eventually I dropped that idea. I didn’t feel anything in my dreams; no emotions or textures or sensations. It was like watching a movie; I was there, but I wasn’t involved. There was still a sense of distance between me and what was happening around me. After a while, I stopped remembering my dreams (or stopped dreaming, whichever). When they came back a year or so later, they were different. I started to have nightmares. Sometimes I would be in life or death situations. Other times I would be running away from someone, someone who wanted to hurt me or rape me or kill me. Suddenly, I could feel the tiredness of running, and the panic of not running fast enough. I once had a dream where I killed myself; I stabbed myself in the chest. I could feel blood flowing out of my body, my breath becoming short and my fingers going numb. I could feel myself go cold. I felt myself die.
It felt so real. And I could see it clearly, in my mind’s eye. The realness of it would transfer to my waking life. I would wake up feeling tired, feeling terrified, as if I had been running all night when I had been in bed the whole time. I had the nightmares for about a year or two, then they stopped.
Eventually, I started to dream again, the nightmares mostly gone. These days, I often dream of myself in situations I would rather not be in; no longer involving death, but still unpleasant nonetheless. The realness is still there; visually and emotionally. The feelings still transfer into my waking life. In my dreams, I’m but a spectator in my body. I act upon impulses and thoughts that aren’t my own, yet I feel everything. I find comfort in the fact that I know that the situations I dream up wouldn’t happen in real life, but I want to take control of my dreams. I want to fight. I want to resist.
This is my body.
