Dreams

5.18.25

I stopped taking sleeping pills after the first week in rehab, after I had detoxed, attributing my nightmares and brain fog to them. I have several friends who are around the same time in their recovery as I am, and they tell me about their nightmares and strange dreams. There doesn’t seem to be a direct connection between the friends who are still taking sleeping pills and those who are consistently having nightmares.

I’m not having drinking or relapse nightmares, but for the last week I have had the most fucked up dreams of my life. The best way I can describe it is as if the writers of American Horror Story and Black Mirror are having a contest to see who can write their best script in my head.

Last night, I was being held captive by a tall, muscular, intelligent man around my age. I got the feeling I had been there for a long time because at one point he had long 80’s hair with split ends, and at another he had short hair. He treated me like a pet that he cared about and fed me raw pig intestines through the steel bars in my cage. He took me out occasionally to bathe me like a mother bear would a cub. I think I had Stockholm syndrome because I never tried to run when I was let out.

A few nights ago, I lived with a circus. I don’t remember much, but my arms and legs were all amputated. We traveled around Europe, and people paid to see me performing some sort of gymnastics act. The bearded woman took care of me, and we shared a trailer.

I have no idea why I am having, or maybe just remembering, my dreams lately. I’d prefer to go back to either not having them at all or not remembering them. I can’t even begin to think what they mean.