Friday, 26 February 2010

Only in dreams

My insomnia has reared its ugly head.

I'd been sleeping like a baby for months. My past sleep problems had vanished into thin air and, although I wasn't quite getting the requisite eight hours (more like six), I was always fairly well rested.

Until last week.

For the last eight days I've been really struggling to get to sleep. When I do eventually manage it I've been having incredibly vivid dreams. Dreams so intense that they wake me up and cause my head to spin. The subject of the dreams? C. Always. Inevitably.

Sometimes the dreams are of normal every day situations. Sunday mornings spent entwined in the duvet, papers spread out between us, the smell of fresh coffee in the air. An arm around me. A stroke of the hand. A smile. Sunlight streaming into the room. Sometimes the dreams involve frightening situations or situations so bizarre as to leave me confused when I wake, wondering what is reality and what is dream.

I'm not sure where these dreams have come from. I'm not aware that I've been thinking and lamenting and wondering a particularly huge amount. Is it my subconscious telling me that something is missing? Telling me that I'm not as happy and content as I think I am? Or am I reading too much into it?

I don't know. I'd like it to stop though. It only makes things harder.