I dream

I dream. A lot. I always have. I have always had vivid, colorful, sensory-filled dreams that make my waking life feel much less interesting in comparison. Friends and I will sometimes discuss my dreams, though I always feel their dreams are tame especially when told next to mine. Dreams hold a certain power, it seems, and mine seem to have something a little extra.

Something that always stuck with me as a kid was that if you die in your dream, you die in real life. This frightened me--as one could imagine! As a girl of four, I remember dreaming that I fell off a mountain I was climbing. I hit the ground really hard. It hurt and I was dead almost instantly. Then I woke up.

As a teenager, I was once stabbed to death by my mother.

I have been shot in the head, eaten by tigers, and sharks, and demons and I was once killed in the line of duty while protecting President Obama.

Also, I drown ALL THE TIME.

I wake up from these dreams, often struggling for breath, recounting what just happened and I feel alive and good, if maybe still a little frightened. (That adrenaline rush is real, you know!)

I never knew why I dreamt in such ways. I often wonder if my willingness to dream and my appreciation of my dreams opens my mind to experience and remember my dreams more than others. What I do know is that I love to dream and now I am ready to share some of my more logical and frightening death dreams. Enjoy.