Where did my dreams go? I seem to have lost them and I don't know where they went. It's kind of interesting. It's kind of scary. And weirdly enough, I don't know where and when they disappeared. All I know is that last night I realized that they are gone....and I am bereft.
Now first of all, I want to say that the dreams that I am talking about are not the dreams that come to us in the dead of the night while we are asleep. I very much still dream frequently. I don't always remember them much past that first wakeful moment or much after the first 24 hours post dream, but I have plenty of night time dreams. Lately, they have been more nightmare quality (think watching plane wrecks, death, destruction and even one or two where you watch your parents die in tragic accidents). But happy dreams or nightmares, those dreams are still around.
No, I am talking about the thoughts that fill my head when I am falling asleep, bored, lonely. In essence my daydreams. Since I have been very young I have always filled my head with what I have always thought of as 'dreams'...but in reality I guess I could refer to them as 'story lines' in my head. This has always been my chosen method to 'put myself to sleep', I close my eyes and imagine myself somewhere else...living the life of my dreams and building a story line in my head. The setting, story line, characters, season and whatnot change, sometimes daily. Over the years I have traversed the nation in a covered wagon, lived with the Indians in teepees on the great plains, fallen in love countless times, been a millionaire, been famous, worked as an archeologist, librarian, and schoolteacher.....and countless other things. Thinking back I can see how my interests in life and the books I was currently reading played a factor in these dreams. I remember being maybe 8 or 10 and reading the Little House of the Prairie books. For months afterward I lived the life of a pioneer gal, traveling in a covered wagon. Likewise, when our family went on vacation to Williamsburg, VA I suddenly created story lines in my head about life in Williamsburg or the nearby Jamestown. Seeing the Replica ships were a huge memory for me when I visited Williamsburg years later (and yes I even talked about how I was most excited to visit the ships in this blog post where I recapped that visit 30 years after my first visit) , So I imagine that I spent time dreaming about how my life would be on one of them. All of this to say that these story line/dreams have been a part of my life for a LONG time.
Last night I couldn't fall asleep. So I immediately turned to my old tried and true standby. I decided to create a story in my head. (I guess it's something similar to counting sheep) Only there was nothing. My mind was blank. I've been reading, so there should be tons of scenes and settings in my mind (except that I did just finish a story about the holocaust......and that's not really a setting I want to imagine myself in.......I want to avoid nightmares!). The more I tried to start a story in my mind......the more upset I became! Where did my stories.....my dreams.....my 'friends' go.
Over the last months and maybe even years I have tried to rediscover who I am. I have felt as if I have lost some of who I am somewhere and somehow. Is the loss of my stories part of what I have lost? Food for thought.
And seriously guys......tell me honestly.....am I nuts for these story lines that have always floated in my head????? I honestly think this may be the first time I have ever in all my years tried to verbalize this. (I know I was doing these stories/dreams in my head at least 4045 years ago...probably longer) I think I just thought everyone did it....but now I am wondering.
