Can we talk about my dreams? I think I kind of need to, if that's okay with you. I know this sounds weird, or maybe not weird by itself but weird that I need to talk about it, but...sometimes I dream of wires. It's not every night, or anything. If it was every night, I'd think maybe I was crazy. Or maybe I'd think I wasn't crazy. I mean, if it was the same dream every night, I'd have to start calling it a memory, wouldn't I? Nobody dreams the same thing, not every single time they go to sleep. That's got to be...impossible, right? Brains don't work that way. Do they?
No, I'm really asking. Do brains work like that? Okay. Didn't think so. Sorry, I know I'm kind of all over the place today. I just didn't sleep well last night.
Okay, no. That's bullshit. That's what you say when your roommate catches you punching the wall because you spilled your corn flakes and you can't tell them that you think you're coming apart at the seams, so you just say, "Sorry, I didn't sleep well last night." I'm not going to say that in here, though. Otherwise what's the point of coming to therapy, right?
I'm all over the place because I had the wire dreams bad last night. Really bad. Like, I kept waking up and brushing at my face to make sure they weren't really-inside me. Like, in my face. In the dreams, they go inside me. They're really thin, like thinner than needles. Thinner than hair, but I can still see them because there's so many. They go into my skin, but they don't leave any marks because they're so thin. It doesn't even hurt, it just feels kind of warm.
No, I don't know where they come from. I mean, it's all just a dream, right? Dreams don't have to make sense. I never really thought about where they come from, they're just...there. All around me. Like a swarm of bees or something. I guess now that I think about it, I can always see them curving a little, so...under the bed, maybe? Does that even make sense?
No, yeah, you're right. I mean I'm right. Dreams don't have to make sense. I just see them everywhere, dripping some kind of clear stuff from the tips. Waiting for me to notice them. Sometimes I pretend I'm still asleep-in the dream, I mean. The dream always starts with me in bed, waking up with the wires everywhere. But sometimes I dream that I pretend I'm still asleep so that they won't notice me. Those are the really bad ones, when I'm lying there in the dark and I know that if I breathe wrong or open my eyes or twitch then the wires will get me.
It never works, though. I can never stay still the whole night. I always cough, or I start to panic and my breath comes too quick, or I need to pee, and I try to jump up and run for it but I never get far. What's 'sleep paralysis'? No, it doesn't feel like that. I don't feel like I can't move. The wires get me. They wind around each other until they're big, thick, heavy cords, and then the cords wrap around my wrists and my ankles and they pull me back down to the bed.
Oh. I guess I just figured that if it was paralysis, I wouldn't, um. Y'know. I wouldn't be able to move. That's normal for dreams like this? You're sure? No, it's fine. You went to school for this stuff and I didn't, right?
Um...where was I? Oh, right. The wires moving. It always seems like they're...alive, somehow. Like I'm in a horror movie about killer bugs or swarms of piranhas, and they're coming in for the kill. Like, you know those scenes in the zombie movies, where someone gets dragged down by the pack of zombies and they're all kind of kneeling around them in a big circle eating? Like that. I always feel like they're staring at me when I first see them.
I don't know. Three, four times a week? I should keep a diary or something. Like one of those dream diaries. It'd probably be easy. I could just put little dittoes every time I have the same dream again. What, you really think I should-okay. I can do that. Remind me before I leave, okay? I'm feeling really scattered today.
No, I always feel like that when I have the wire dreams. It's like, I wake up, and I almost don't feel like me at first. I do that thing where I brush at my face and my scalp, and I reach down between my legs and check-oh. Um. Yeah. I, um...I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. Can we not? Oh thank God.
But it's like, I feel like something's been altered, you know? Like when you come back into a room and suddenly it feels like something's out of place and you don't know exactly what because your memory's not that good. So you look at every single thing in the room, asking yourself, "Was that magazine there when I left? Did that vase always have flowers in it? Did I leave that glass on the floor?" And your nerves get jangly and you start getting really paranoid until you just make yourself stop thinking about it. That's what it's like the days after the wire dreams, except instead of a room it's me.
I don't know! Sorry, I shouldn't have shouted. I don't know what it is, that's what makes it so fucked up. Like, I catch myself wondering about everything I do. "Did I always like Greek yogurt? Do I really do the dishes every Saturday? Did I always wake up horny?" And once I get inside my own head like that, I freak myself out and everything seems weird and unnatural. My roommate probably tells you about me all the time. Her freaky friend who gets all twitchy whenever you ask her what she wants on her pizza.
No, I know you can't tell me. I wasn't really asking, I just-never mind. Forget it. She's not the problem anyway. I...can't you just prescribe me something? Like, Dreamathol or something to make me not have dreams? No, I know that's not a real drug, but there's got to be something that can-oh. That sucks.
I'm not sure I'd want it anyway, to be honest. As fucked up as it sounds, I'm almost kind of glad I'm still having wire dreams, at least a little bit, because...okay, I know this is going to sound really crazy. Like, "skip the therapist and go straight to the mental hospital" crazy. But...
