I’ve previously touched on my tendency for vivid dreams, and anxiety-driven fear of loss. But I’ve only scratched the surface really.
Last night I dreamt my husband and I, for reasons unknown, had separated. When another man wanted to take me out to dinner, it prompted me to go back to my husband and tell him that I didn’t want us to be apart, that we should be together. He thought about it and said, “hmm, OK… for now….”
This is not unusual. Unfortunately for my husband, I often have dreams that he’s cheating on me, or that our relationship is disintegrating. I’ve half-jokingly told him off in the morning, or woken myself up in the middle of the night, sobbing.
We’ve been together since I was 21, shared so much, built a home, made babies. Despite being, dare I say, fairly popular with the guys?!, he was the only man I was ever even slightly interested in making a real life with.
And so of course he, the life we’ve made together, is the prime target for my anxious mind. It’s like A Nightmare on Elm Street – except when I sleep I won’t be murdered, but I will have my worst fears realised.
This is one of the most frustrating things about mental health issues – your brains ability to take hold of your greatest fear and use it against you. Thankfully I have a husband who can understand, because of his own experiences with anxiety, and I do my best to talk to him when this kind of thing rears its ugly head.
However for a lot of people this self sabotage, this twisting manipulation of all their greatest hopes, dreams and worries, has lost them jobs, driven loved ones away and led them directly to the very loss and isolation they feared so much.
So that’s why, every time my life comes crashing down at night, I give my family a big kiss in the morning.