My Brain Hates Me

Bad dreams

I sometimes wonder if I really am my own worst enemy, or, at least, if my brain is. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt that way or not, but last night I had not one, but two incredibly disturbing dreams; dreams that involved awful things happening to me, or the threat of them happening, at least. One was so vivid I woke up, heart pounding, trying to assure myself that what I just witnessed, what my eyes had seen—what truly felt real—was not. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. The mantra I have to tell myself every time it happens. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but nothing quite as disturbing as last night. I hesitate to describe it in too much detail, but I want to say enough to not leave the imagination running wild. My dreams, like my imagination, are incredibly vivid and, often times, intense. It’s often like watching a movie, except the movie last night was a nightmare. I had to watch myself wake up, and the first weird thing was to see myself, out of body, and then to realize, I had been drugged. I watched myself, drugged, waking up somewhere I didn’t recognize. The scene shifts, and I realize I’m watching a recording of me. This had happened, but past tense. I feel my skin crawl. I feel exposed and vulnerable, in the worst possible way. Fast forward and I’m talking to a police officer about what had happened...and then, I wake up. It is a terrifying feeling, made even worse by waking up alone, when you truly can’t tell if something is reality or just a dream.

I think that’s the real reason I’m still alone—not for lack of meeting people, or lack of trying, but because the kind of real connection I am looking for is so rare. I know that one day I will find it...but for now I swallow down the fear, and I hold myself tight in the middle of the night, until sleep finally comes.

There are only a few things I miss about my life with my ex, to be completely honest, but having someone to comfort me in the middle of the night after a nightmare like the one I had last night, certainly comes high on that list. It didn’t dawn on me ‘til after it had happened, how awful it feels waking up alone after that. Obviously, there is nothing to answer for it, but to continue on, as I’ve been doing these past three and a half years; but there are times, like last night, that remind me of what that was like, and the hope that one day I’ll have it again. The truth is that, even if you’re “with” someone, but if they’re the “wrong” someone...you’ll still wake up feeling alone, even if you’re lying right next to them.

I think that’s the real reason I’m still alone—not for lack of meeting people, or lack of trying, but because the kind of real connection I am looking for is so rare. I know that one day I will find it...but for now I swallow down the fear, and I hold myself tight in the middle of the night, until sleep finally comes. I once had a girlfriend who had gone through something similar tell me that this is the time when you learn how to self-sooth. Trust me when I tell you I am an expert when it comes to this: I have been doing it since...well, for as long as I can remember. I can actually remember, as a teenager, having to learn how to comfort others, and how to let others comfort me in turn, something that was completely foreign to me. So, if I’m sitting here telling you that I miss, no, crave having a significant other to comfort me, you know it has to have been a particularly hard moment for me.

I share this mostly because it feels like something that I can’t be alone in feeling, but also because I do genuinely wonder if my brain has it in for me. laughs My other dream last night wasn’t nearly as bad but it certainly wasn’t much better. It started out quite well: I met a handsome stranger. We talk; he kisses me; he wants to see me again; he sends me a really cute package that references our meeting...(the details in the middle of this dream are a bit fuzzy, as, sadly, most dream details become)...but, suffice it to say, I don’t see him again. Cut forward to me driving a car and the car manually forces me to park; apparently I’m being pulled over by a cop, or at least this is what my car tells me. (What I’m thinking: What the hell is this? Is this some futuristic reality? This sucks!) Then a car pulls out of nowhere, in front of mine, facing me, and the driver looks at me with mal-intent. (The fact that he was wearing a beanie probably didn’t help, but it’s a dream, so you’re just going to have to trust me when I say he looked creepy AF) And yes, of course I tried to get the hell out of dodge, but I don’t honestly know if I did because that’s the moment that I woke up. (My brain may have it in for me, but she also never lets me go too far down the rabbit hole.)

More brain fuckery

Last month I had the painful surprise of dreaming about both the last two men I fell in love with. Let me just preface by saying that no, I cannot control what I dream about (I’d love to meet a person who can). With that said, I am firmly in the camp of people who believe that dreams are nothing more than an overactive brain while we sleep. I’ve always joked that my brain is having fun, and with my imagination it’s not a big surprise that some of my dreams are pretty intense. The truth is that I cannot attribute value to them, not when they are like mine. I am curious, though, what are your thoughts? Are you with Dr. Sigmund Freud? Are there underlying themes in our dreams—a product of our subconscious desires? I can’t speak for everyone, I can only speak for me, but I am curious what your thoughts are on it. Agree, disagree?

As for me? I have become pretty strong and resilient. Some of the hardest times, for me, personally, are the moments like the one I had last night. The moments when I truly wish I had someone to turn to for love and comfort. The strong arms to envelop you, to make you feel safe, or, even short of that, the familiar voice to talk to, to listen, to offer comfort, even if they can’t physically be there. When I have been incredibly sick or hurt, these have also been the moments when I’ve longed for that. I recently realized that I don’t have anyone like that in my life anymore, and it was an incredibly sad and sobering moment. Not that I don't have friends, because I do. But I don’t feel like I have someone I can turn to for the hard shit.

One of my biggest fears

I remember the last time I truly hurt myself (I fell while running and I sprained the fingers in both of my hands, badly), I truly felt it—I felt all alone in that moment. I longed to have someone to turn to, to comfort me, dare I say, even, someone to take care of me. (Yes, even strong, independent women want to be taken care of sometimes.) I remember crying my eyes out thinking about it, then getting my shit together enough to somehow manage to drive home with two sprained hands. (Yes, this happened, and no, I probably shouldn’t have been driving. If you’ve been listening you get why.) I remember reaching out that night to the last man I fell in love with, and how, even after having not talked in quite a while, he called me and was truly there for me through that. I will always be so grateful to him for that. With that gone now, well...it’s an incredibly sobering thought. I know that this is just a period of my life where I don’t have that, but it is a very real fear of mine, should I ever get seriously hurt again. I suppose it is top of mind, too, with the knowledge that I’m going to a foreign country, alone, next month (as I’m posting this now, in a matter of a few days).

There are no bows

I honestly don’t know if I have a pretty bow to tie around this post, but I do know this: I can’t be the only one to have ever felt this way. I hope, if anything, I can raise a light on how it feels for some of us. The ones who are strong, 99% of the time, but who—the other 1% of the time when we are facing the hard shit—truly just want to turn to someone else, to not necessarily fix it, but, to simply just be there with us. To listen and lighten the burden by simply just being there to face it, with us.

For those of you who are more blessed than some of us, I encourage you to simply be more aware, and to hopefully be there for someone in your life if and when they muster up enough courage to ask you for help. You have no idea just how much it can mean, even just knowing you’re someone they can turn to. A safe space, a lifeline. The truth is that we all, every single one of us, will need that at some point in our lives. It’s my hope that I am the kind of friend that those around me know that I can be that for them, should they ever need it, and hopefully they are in turn for me.

So, here’s to staying optimistic and, hopefully, to no more nightmares for awhile. I think I’ve had enough to last me for a quite a long time. Here’s to better days...

Love always,

Sabrina Michele