I woke up last night after a few hours of sleep, with horrible intestinal pain. I must’ve ate something bad, and thought a quick visit to the bathroom and some Imodium AD would take care of it, but after returning to bed, I was instantly in pain again. I got back up, and back to bed several times, but to no avail.
Finally, I gave up on the bed, as I didn’t want to annoy my wife who had to get up pretty early (as did I). The dread was upon me that I wouldn’t get any sleep the night before a pretty full work week and I’d be starting things off pretty horribly. I took some more medicine, drank some ginger ale, and laid on the down stairs couch. With my legs pulled up on the couch, I slowly started feeling better. I was tired, but not falling asleep, so I returned back to bed once more.
Instantly, the discomfort returned. Screw it, I said, I’d stay down stairs. I laid there, just hoping the discomfort would subside enough for me to fall asleep. It hung there, dull, in the background, but was better. I kept worrying about the pain’s return, but continued to drift towards sleep. Soon I was thinking random, odd nearly dreaming thoughts, and was self aware enough to be glad I was that close to falling back to sleep. Then I was feeling the vibrations of sleep paralysis occurring, and was MORE than happy to be so close to fully asleep. In fact, I remember thinking even if I just have to stay in this state, right on the cusp of sleep, it’d be infinitely better than laying awake in pain. Then I started hearing the voices. These didn’t frighten me, because again, I knew it just meant I was for all intents and purposes, asleep.
Another wave of vibrations occurred, and I was well into the dreaming. I knew if I slowly stood up “off the couch”, I’d in fact be sleeping and merely dreaming. Soon I was standing downstairs in the middle of the day, and the living room french doors were opened to a view of a car port we don’t actually own, on a street that’s not quite our own.
I walked outside, and saw a sad excuse for a cosplayer, dressed as Batman. I wanted to simultaneously toss the guy into the sky and yet stay chill and asleep. So I casually kicked him in the butt as I walked by, hands in my pockets. Another person passed by on the street, but I was now determined to just remain calm. The last thing I wanted was to wake up, I didn’t care so much about waking up and recording my dream as I did getting some sleep after all that pain and restlessness.
I walked across the street, which appeared similar, but different, from an old street I once lived on years ago. When I got to the other side of the road, instead of course, prickly sand and weeds, the ground was colorful, child safe foam with patterns that were inviting. I decided why not lay down and relax IN a dream knowingly, which really felt like the most restful thing I could do. I wanted to remain slightly conscious, so I’d look up at the street now and then.
Then there was a boy, playing with a spade, pail and some toys. I smiled at him as he played, but put my finger to my lips, “Shhhhh…” He smiled back and was mostly quietly. When he clanked his pail, I politely and calmly pulled the spade away from the pail and again pleaded, “Shhhhh…”
Then I got too comfortable, and the dream began to shift. I welcomed it. Rather than being IN a dream, I wanted to conduct a dream. I’d be content to watch some odd, dream created, television of the mind, if that’s what my brain was deciding to do. I didn’t want to put up a fight. I do remember thinking, “Let’s make this an ’80s tv show.” It had the washed out film grain and color palette of old shows like Hill Street Blues and Barney Miller, lots of light browns and tans. The title shot focused on what looked like a storage unit. There on the street in front of it was Blair from Facts of Life. I was amused by this incredibly random casting, and watched as she walked into her small apartment, dealing with life on her own in the city.
Soon the dream shifted again, and I was content to now be a passenger completely, and the last thing I wanted was to wake myself up. Eventually I believe I did wake up, and brushed some hair away that was tickling my forehead, and fell back to sleep. Again I entered sleep paralysis, and this time I was placed inside a full and busy house. I walked into a room, but fairly quick drifted into a deep sleep. The next thing I knew, my wife was waking me up.