Skip to main content

The worst and best of dreams

  

 

11791701_546439678840119_1329159036_n

 

Ever since I can remember I have always been quite a vivid dreamer. Even as a child my dreams would be so real and I would even sleep talk in different languages. Places that I had never been to, and words that sounded so foreign, but to me, in my sleep talk, they came out so easily.

As I got older – the dreams remained but instead of nice dreams, most of them were apocalyptic style. So graphic and scary that I would wake in a pool of my own sweat with it taking a good few minutes to realise that I was back in reality and it was just a dream.

And, I always felt SO tired. I would complain about the tiredness all the time where even my family would say, “Come on Cheryl, stop saying you’re tired all the time”. That restful sleep had been eluding me for years.

Big dreams. Life or death dreams. Shit dreams. Nightmares really.

Last year I went to see a homeopathy therapist, out of curiosity mainly to see what I could do about my sleep, anxiety and feeling overwhelmed 99% of the time. Apparently my adrenal glands had been running on overdrive for years which may have contributed to the fact that my mind wouldn’t shut down for sleep and these dreams, heightened anxiety and busy mind were a symptom of what was happening inside of me. She spoke with me for over 2 hours, it was nice to unload to someone that didn’t know me, listened and was completely unbiased on my words that were coming out. She gave me some homeopathic blends to take and assured me that things would get better.

I slept non-stop with no “end of the world” dreams that night for 8 hours straight. I felt completely rested and recharged. I actually didn’t care whether it was a placebo effect or whether those drops did do something. Sleep happened. A shift had happened.

Since that time – I hardly ever dream. It doesn’t take me hours upon hours to fall to sleep. I wake up rested - I wake up alive. It’s so nice to wake up alive.

Last night I had a dream.

I dreamt that Ethan was in his twenties, a full grown, beautiful young man. I dreamt of me driving to go visit him. I met him at a pub that he was working and living at. He had the biggest most warming smile on his face when I arrived and was so proud to show me around. We had a pub meal together. Mother and Son, sitting together just talking. I can still feel the heart melt feeling in me of love. I can feel the warmth of the sunshine as we were sitting out the front of that pub having lunch together. I can recall his deep voice while he was chatting away to me.

It was the best of dreams. Bring on more dreams like that universe.

 

 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Do not write blog post when you have had a couple of wines

 It's been a bad day.  Not a travesty, but a day of anxiety, overload of emotions, countless puffs from many a ciggies and all in all just a bleh.  Where the fuck has 2020 gone? How did we get from free world to lockdown and oppressions and wearing masks???? I  burnt my 2020 planner, close with my 2020 diary, because why the fuck, hey? Let's just write this year off as a mistake on a humanity scale and start fresh in 2021.  Funnily enough, I bought a $4 2021 diary. So there may be hope. My beloved is struggling. Which  means that I am struggling, Seeing him in pain, no sleep, swelling joint agony, depression and all the things that entail chronic illness. I'm at a loss as to how to help him, I just sit and be with him and tell him every day that i will be by his side till the rest of my days.  At least 2020 has shown us this: What actually is important in our life, What actually matters, like really really matters,  The latest model car o...

Is it Saturday or Sunday?

 It is just before 6am as I sit here on my back porch watching the sun slowly rise for another day. What day is it? #isolyf has got me all confused to the day, date and month. With so many of us wishing and wanting “more time”, I have found myself getting bored of being bored and the motivation bug seems to come in slower and less frequently. How the world has changed in the unprecedented times, hey? It seems that here in #straya, we have quickly adapted to the powers that be and in the matter of weeks have become accustomed to the lack of interaction and movement. Does that concern you? How quickly we have been able to conform? I had to delete Facebook off my phone a few weeks ago as I was constantly checking #scomo and Googling “coronavirus” every other minute. The information overload brought on confusion as well as fear and I was working around feeling like doomsday was coming. The best thing that I did was switch off. The establishment news was only regurgitating stupidity ...

I had a hysterectomy at 37 years of age

 This coming Wednesday will mark four weeks since my hysterectomy. It has been a long journey coming – this hysterectomy and with all the ailments that I had experienced over the last 20 years, including low grade cervical cancer, I could not have been happier seeing my uterus ripped out and put in the bin. That said, I am grateful that these organs allowed me to birth my two sons. They are the joys and absolute headaches of my life. I would (like most mothers I am sure) take a bullet for them and they always know that sanctuary of any sort will always be home for them. But a hysterectomy at 37 you say? Yes, I do admit that Google will tell you that this surgery is quite early in my life, but after two decades of agony, constant pain, bloating to the size of looking like I am six months pregnant and the fact that I had finished have all the children that I desired, it really was a no brainer. We live in rural Victoria. Our main town, Mildura has a hospital, and I was aware that ...