Fever Reality

Wednesday May 05, 2004 @ 05:29 PM (UTC)

Sometimes I have these dreams - especially when I’ve spent a lot of time on one activity or TV show during a day. The dreams haunt me, exist in my thoughts even when I’m half-awake. They’re anxious worries about whatever it was I was watching or doing - for instance, worries about vampires and foiling evil plans, if I’ve been watching Buffy. Usually they’re something silly like that, and I shake it off when I get all the way awake. Sometimes they return, but usually a sharp jolt of waking logic and pleasant thoughts on returning to bed dispel them. “That’s silly and unreal,” I inform myself, and go back to sleep.

Last night I had a fever, and those half-dreams on top of it. Except the half-dreams weren’t about vampires, xenomorphs, or anything I could dispel with a shake of my head and a little self-scolding. I was fretting about Iraq, about the increasing quagmire, about the soldiers and contractors abusing prisoners and the death-spiral US-Middle East relations seem to be tracing. Of course it wasn’t so cogent—snatches of stories from an Iraqi girl’s blog, news stories, fleeting impressions of helmets and gunfire. And every time I woke up, I couldn’t shake it away, because it isn’t silly, and it isn’t unreal. The fever only made it more real, more gripping. I was confused, unhappy, and mournful.

So I’ve been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer all day. Here’s to silly, unreal anxiety dreams!

Comments

...hath strong imagination,
That if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

So which am I, poet, lover, or madwoman?

I can testify my non-dulcet tones best become a madwoman’s at present. People flinch in sympathy when I speak.

I hope Buffy gave you some peace, and allowed to to nap after losing sleep.

For much of my young life (around the first Gulf War) I had hellish war-time nightmares, always with a sense of yet to come upon waking. This is probably why some of them stay with me to this day.

These days I try not to watch the evening news. It helps me to get the fret out earlier in the day, thereby avoiding real-world induces nightmares.

I slept until 11:30 am yesterday… and cannot remember my dreams :)

Perhaps I should consider myself lucky? I can never remember any of my dreams. Well, sometimes I have a vague sense of what was going on in a dream, right when I wake up, but I’m never able to hold on to it and it dissolves in my mind like a fleeting morning mist. It’s strange.

As an added curio, I might mention that, to my great dismay and repeated regrets, this volatile memory of mine never holds it in its grace to aid in eroding my recollection of stupid things I did while intoxicated the night before awakening with a massive hangover. Such is indeed the irony of my days.

I like remembering my dreams, in general. Heck, my only novel in any state of construction started from a dream I had.

I find dreams inspirational, too. I’ve gotten ideas for stories and (don’t laugh) the theme of my wedding. :)

Hear hear re: not watching the news. See also: my comment on wonko.com under Looky! And Looky!

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