**Disclaimer: There are footnotes!
Sometimes, I have crazy dreams. It’s pretty common in people—we all have some crazy, vivid dreams. But, sometimes, my dreams totally mess with my daily life. There are times that I’ll walk around with this uneasy feeling, like something awful is going to happen. I’ll stop what I’m doing and acknowledge the anxiety and think, OMG, what’s going to happen? Am I having some premonition of something awful? And that shit’ll follow me all night at work, bothering me in the pit of my stomach. I’ll start obsessing that people I love are going to die. And then—BAM!—the dream comes back and I’m like, “Oh, that’s just ‘cause I had a horrible dream about my puppy falling out a window.” Or, “Yeah, I dreamt I got in a huge screaming fight with a client and I punched them.” Or, “Don’t worry, you still live in your apartment, and not in this half-open squatting house without walls where people can see you pee and drool in your sleep.” 1 Just like that, the unease lifts and I’m all better.
In grade 7 or 8, I had a dream that I was walking around the iced-over grounds of my elementary school. This shit was vivid, right down to the crunching of my footsteps in the hardened snow. I’d realized that I wasn’t walking around aimlessly. Jonathan Brandis was there, walking with one of his friends. I mean, anyone from my time will remember how hot he was (in a fourteen-year-old girl-crush kinda way). I was all “Ladybugs! He’s soooo cute!” Well, I was walking behind him going, “Jonathan?” all crapping my pants in excitement. What did he do? He turned around and raised an eyebrow with a look of annoyance. Then, he told me to go away and leave him alone. It’s like I knew he was telepathically calling me an awkward fat kid with frizzy hair—dreams are like that. Jerk. That morning, I woke up to my Bop magazine posters of him in the corner of my room and I took them down. That was it for Jonathan Brandis. He was a jerk and I never liked him again.2
Another common thing is what I have an argument/fight with someone in my dream. I won’t remember the dream when I wake up, but I’ll remember being mad at someone. I’ll hear that person’s name mentioned casually and my eyes will roll, or I’ll feel like I don’t want to answer their phone calls. Again, not sure why. But then—BAM!—here comes the dream memory and I’m like, “Dude! That never freakin’ happened!” It’s hard to get over that, so I might still avoid the person even though rationally, I know it’s crazy. My heart just won’t shake the bad feelings.3
In my dreams, I frequently know how to fly or am telekinetic. Usually, I’m at the “discovering” phase of it, where I’ll leap into the air and use all my concentration to not come crashing down. Or I’ll focus all my energy into the telekinetic thing and objects will move and I’m immediately way cooler than everyone. I love it. It’s like, the best thing about dreams. Well, waking up to being a regular old human totally sucks. Like, borderline depressing for the first few hours. That’s usually when I try squinting my eyes4 at something in my room, hoping it’ll move and I’ll know I’ve still got my powers. It never works. But at the same time, I know it can never work, because then I’d take those powers and abuse them, use them for personal gain (such as doing devastating things to bad drivers, etc.). It’s all very mindboggling.
Do dreams mess with your mind? Was Jonathan Brandis a jerk to you in your dreams?
1) I actually dream I’m not in my apartment anymore quite often. I’ll be living in some other apartment, back in my parents’ house, in some loft without doors or privacy, in a dorm with other people—again, with no walls or privacy. I panic in my dream, trying to make a home out of this weird setting, meanwhile I’m like, “Where the hell is my apartment? My stuff? My puppies and my girlfriend? I wanna diiiiie!”
2) May he rest in peace. Jonathan Brandis, 1976-2003.
3) Sorry to all I’ve acted cold toward when there was no reason. It was just the dreams.
4) Telekinesis “Prue Halliwell from Charmed” style. Hence the eye-squinting…