It Was Just a Dream

A few years ago, I had a dream that my mother died. I woke up from this dream with my heart racing, my body covered in sweat, and I was shaking. It was around 3:00 in the morning, and I could not go back to sleep. I went to the living room and tried to watch television. I tried to convince myself that it was just a dream, and I should just go back to bed. To no avail, an hour later, I sat in the living room wide awake.

At 4:00 in the morning I decided to call my mom. Even though I knew that I would be waking her from a sound sleep, I just needed to hear her voice. I dialed her number, and the phone rang for several times. Finally she answered the phone. “Angie what’s wrong?” She asked sleepily. (Because me calling this early in the morning would usually only mean something was wrong). I told  her I had a terrible dream, and I just needed to hear her voice. I needed to know she was okay. She assured me she was fine, and I told her I loved her. I apologized for waking her, and we hung up. I went back to sleep.

Dreams are funny like that, don’t you think? Even though I knew it was just a dream, the feelings that came with it led to anxiety and fear. Even though I knew it was not real, I had to prove it to myself that it in fact was just a dream. I have had other dreams like that since. The ones that seem so real, you almost need verification that they were not. THe mind is a crazy, complicated thing.

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