Written by: Robert J. Escandon
Dreams are a thing. Some say they’re parts of the unconscious mind reaching to the surface to unentangle unresolved issues. Others say they’re realities that may exist elsewhere. And some people just flat say they’re the garbage of the mind.
Honestly I’ve never heard anyone say that whole garbage of the mind thing but it kind of sprang up on me, so I wrote it.
Regardless of what they are, some dreams, depending on the time of day/night or the things that we’re currently pushing through in our lives, are captivating.
That being said, I recently had a dream where I was watching the Avengers Cartoon with my wife and one of my kids in a room that felt and looked like a basement.
Avengers Assemble (cartoon) was playing and we were watching it with no hitch in tow. Suddenly I remembered that my kids friend had been at the door earlier asking me if he was available to play with him. I turned to my kid, which at that point was face down on the bed about it. He suddenly got up and raced out of the room, leaving part of his hair on the bed. Apparently my wife had given him a haircut on the bed and left the mess there to pick up later.
I got up and started complaining about the mess and then realized that the room was dark, damp and messy. It looked like a basement. So I went off and found myself walking through the house that looked really old and almost antique. It was dark, dirty and felt like a maze. There were altars built into the walls, with melted candles as if they were constantly being used throughout the day.
I then stopped in the kitchen, which wasn’t really a kitchen but what else can I call it? My wife was there trying to calm me down along with another one of my kids (the oldest one). I started looking around and the thing here is that it felt real.
Like really, really real.
It’s as if I had been living there for a long time with only a faint memory of the house I currently live in. Like the dream was reality and my reality was the dream.
Everything felt very flesh and bones kinda thing, so I asked my wife about a contract we had been in the process of signing to extend our stay in our current house (reality). She looked at me and began to change into another woman. She told me to calm down because I was in a frenzy. I felt like I was having a breakdown. Even my kid was telling me to calm down in the dream.
I kept asking and slowly everything began to warp and distort itself. Funny thing was, that since I seeing it through my point of view, the distortion felt like I was having an anxiety attack or something. You know, like the blackened corners in my eyes, blurry vision, dry throat and momentary blackness where I could only hear their voices but not see them.
I kept asking about the where we use to live and if we were in this house for the weekend, for the day or what.
The dream didn’t want to let me go so to speak. I felt like I was really going crazy.
In one of those blackout moments my wife began to stretch her body over me and continued to tell me to calm down.
I kept forcing the issue and began to tell myself that I was in a dream and had to wake up. My oldest kid kept looking at me like he was losing his father, which caused me to momentarily stop telling myself it was a dream.
When I did that, the dream instantly composed itself into a normal setting so to speak. But when ever I told myself that it was a dream, the anxiety would skyrocket and everything became distorted again.
It was weird and felt like I was one step away from being committed.
I opened my eyes from the dream to see my bedroom, but almost instantly got pulled back in.
There was a battle there between the dream world and the waking world that felt almost unreal.
When I finally woke up, I was completely disoriented.
I got up out of bed, looking around almost making sure that my surroundings were real. In fact I went out of my room and walked up to my wife and 3 kids and literally poked them to make sure they were really there.
Once convinced I told them all about it.
The thing here, and the reason I was compelled to write this down, was that I had never really felt that loss of reality. Like the dream wanted me to stay there and somehow maybe, perhaps keep me there also.
There was a very fine line between knowing that it was a dream and feeling the reality of the dream. The dream felt real and as I questioned its reality, it started breaking down.
It’s funny cause when one questions their reality, I mean truly question it, the feeling seems to be similar. A nervous breakdown anyone?
Dreams can be a trap and so can reality. It seems fair to say that one can Inter wine into the other without a moments notice.