Getting the occasional bout of insomnia (about two months without any serious disruption to my sleep pattern, touching wood as we speak) I'm more than familiar with the usual home remedies. I've cut down on my coffee intake (easier said than done I might add), gone for walks in the evenings; I've sprayed lavender everywhere, lit candles and downloaded some relaxation music and ocean sounds onto my iPhone to lull me to sleep. And it's not the getting to sleep part that's the problem, it's staying asleep. I've always been a light sleeper, Mr S will tell you how many times I've elbowed him in the back for waking me up when all he's done is roll over in his sleep. I'm starting to think maybe I need an isolation chamber to sleep in.
But it is amazing what your mind conjures up during sleepy-time, isn't it? Over the last couple of nights I've been held captive in a log cabin which I've tried to escape via a wardrobe with a fake back to it; I've been kept in a prison camp of sorts where I was on top of a metal tower, overlooking the gate to freedom which was covered in pink barbed wire; I was also escaping my captors through very dense woods in super-fast quad bikes which in hindsight looked a lot like the speeders Luke and Leia had on the forest moon of Endor in Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi. Even my subconscious is a nerd.
|Nightmare by Kalessaradan|
Luckily I don't often remember my dreams, not for very long. They tend to stay with me until I have something else to think about, which is when the dream seems to disintegrate, sometime leaving behind a fragment or two, more often not even that. One has stayed with me for over 20 years. I think I was about 7 or 8 at the time, and I was sick with a flu with high temperature and sore throat. I remember this dream as clear as day even now. I'm at home, in the house my parents still live in, and I'm on the roof. I spread my arms out to my sides, jump of and I fly. I remember, in the dream, thinking that this was a dream. I looked down and saw our vegetable garden and swing set. I swerved down and to my right, flying low over our neighbour's birch tree and play house. I was circling our back garden quite happily until I woke up. The fact that this dream is still etched into my memory speaks volumes. I would quite happily pay money to feel the way I did in that dream again.
I'm off to spray my bed with lavender, stuff my pillow case with hops and drink some chamomile tea. Here's to a good night's sleep. It's bloody hard to sleep with your fingers crossed.