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 o...
TRYING TO FIND THE BLISS IN THE MAYHEM OF EVERYDAY