Anxious Dreaming

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I’m on a tiny fishing boat, far from shore. So far that I can’t even see the shore, so who’s to say it’s there at all? I have half a liter of water and a small can of worms, which I’m attempting to jury-rig to the end of a stick in a desperate attempt to catch some fish. There is a tiny life preserver at the front of the boat that used to be red but has been bleached by the sun to a sickly shade of pink. There are no paddles on the boat, so I’m floating helplessly, at the mercy of the waves and the wind. The sun may as well be resting directly on my eyelids, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

I wake up sweating, dazed and a bit confused. Another anxious dream. Another night of restlessness and poor sleep as my mind dances around itself. A lot of my dreams are like this; filled with anxiety and trying to do something that, for some reason, is right outside my reach. It could be that I’m late for a meeting and I just can’t quite find the meeting room. It could be that I’m being chased, and whoever is chasing me is always, almost, but not quite, catching me. It could be that I’m overseas and lost my credit card and my passport and have no feasible way to get home. Tonight, I dreamed myself onto a fishing boat with no paddles and no way to help myself help myself.