Same here. I’m allways changing the rules in my dreams, So nightmares turn in to really strange action fantasy.
I almost never remember my dreams and can’t recall having a nightmare in the last few years. The last one I recall were me and my cousins being chased around by Pinhead and a gaggle of cenobites in the highshcool Red Oak High.
I’ve had those sleep paralysis things a couple of times though. When you wake up ridden by dread and angst and can’t move a finger for a while.
I voted rarely myself but only because my preferred choice, “SHIT BONERZ!” was inexplicably not in the poll.
Last night I dreamt that I was exploring an ancient egyptian tomb with Turk and JD from Scrubs. Then Danni showed up out of nowhere and I woke up squeezing her boob. Good times.
I get those all the time. The one I remember most prominently was a recurring one where grotesque aliens would chase me and then miraculously I’d have a huge assault rifle and it would turn into an Aliens-esque battle royale with aliens exploding everywhere. Those dreams were such a rush that I’d wake up in the middle and try to force myself asleep again so I could blast me some more aliens.
No wonder I’m a gamer.
The last nightmare I had was in an ancient undiscovered library will shelves of tombs along all the walls rising up high into blackness over our heads. There were giant webs hanging over the door ways and out of the blackness that was the low ceiling. There were some late 19th century old fogey scholar like people examining the books. One of them got their arm stuck in a web near a door way and a giant freakin’ spider descended out of the blackness instantly and grabbed him. I woke up.
I don’t have them very often, but my nightmares are pretty much the only dreams I ever remember. Especially when they’re the kind of dream that feels like it’s not a dream at all, but it’s not really a lucid dream because I can’t suddenly flip out and fly around blowing things up.
They do provide pretty sweet stories because while they start with the wacky dream “I was there just because”, they turn into completely coherent narratives that don’t jump around, but still have people being devoured by 7 foot tall monsters. Then later, I can think back on it and it’s like I lived through an awesome horror short.
Very rarely, and they don’t bother me much. I just turn over, think about something else, and go back to sleep. I can only remember being freaked out once in my life about 15 years ago, when I dreamed my father died. I certainly don’t dream about killing people; that’s pretty messed up, man.
Violence and anger are common themes. I guess I should not be surprised by this result with the stress and all. The level of violence and their frequency must have gradually increased and now that I step back and think about it, it is messed up. Especially how used to it I have become.
Strangely, slasher flicks I used to watch are a bit more disturbing to me and I do not watch movies in the horror genre much at all anymore.
Man do I miss the dreams where I see the two hot chicks out and about somewhere and I am somehow able to immediately convince them that a 3-way is a good idea. Then it is all arms and legs and doin’ IT. I used to have those quite a bit. Not a fair trade off at all, is it?
I love those dreams.
I’ve had similar dreams, the one that stuck with me was breaking a tooth and discovering a little round watch battery inside. No idea what that means, but in reading about dreams in general I believe tooth loss kind of correlates to feelings of impotence or lack of control over your circumstances, something in your life.
While I do have nightmares, they are rarely of the graphic nature that Tyjenks initially described.
Good way to get vivid nightmarish dreams is to forget to take your anti-depression meds for one day. I’m not endorsing doing that on purpose, but if my some reason I have missed my daily dose of soma I know that I’ll be up two or three times that night drenched in night sweats.
THing is, my dose has increased and the dreams do not abate. Of course, all the meds in the world do not remove stresses that are beyond one’s control. I guess my cure is just waiting until things settle the hell down and life resumes something close to normalcy.
What meds are you on? I’ve found in my experience that if they’re not working for you, you need to let your dr know so they can change them. Antidepressant medication is a fairly inexact science. :\
I saw that Sopranos episode too.
Ahh yeah, I forgot to mention that besides massive amounts of caffeine I’m totally unmedicated. One of the only people I know who’s not on anything.
Aren’t there like 3 or 4 different classes that inhibit different chemicals in the old noggin’? After naming off the one’s of done took, I have covered everything available. Trying newer and better versions of the old ones. Lexapro now. I guess it is keeping me from curling up in a ball in the floorboard of my car.
I’m not on anything either, suprisingly enough. I’m jealous of people who get to take a lot of pills. Some of them are so festive and shiny, while others are small and muted in tone, downplaying their mighty transformative power. I never get to take any pills. It’s not fair. I’m also not in any therapy and never have been. I guess it’s nice because some people still feel that there’s a stigma attached to needing some counselling every now and again, so I should feel slighted by the fact I am exactly the right kind of nuts where I feel fine. Unless I am not blessed by the kiss of insanity at all. That would be troubling, because I’ve always wanted to think that I was somebody really famous. The odds of actually becoming famous are probably lower than the odds of developing paranoid delusions of grandeur, so while you may accuse me of engaging in flights of fancy, I would caution you not to speak out of turn in the presence of an emperor of France. Another benefit to being crazy and thinking I was famous as an alternative to actually being famous is that, when you’re really famous, you have to be yourself every day. If you get famous as a dancer, well, you have to dance your ass off for the rest of your life. If you are crazy, and you get bored of dancing for your dinner, you can just decind that you are a singer. Case in point, J.Lo. Nevertheless, I hear about other people talk about their therapists, and I just wish for an hour or two I could lie on a fancy leather couch, blame a bunch of problems on everyone close to me, and have a good cry.
Not a cry like the kind I have when I am watching Beaches, or X-Men III, and something bad happens and someone talks about it and then expresses their intention to work through the problem, but the kind people on tv get when they are driving through the rain away from their dad’s house where they had an argument. Not that I have arguments with my Dad, I just mean that type of crying. Just letting it all out and being vulnerable on camera. Except I don’t think therapists are supposed to have cameras.
Back on topic, if I got to take a bunch of pills, and they sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, I would have to guess that, if they are mind pills, they sometimes work better than intended, and then for three days or so, you are really hard to annoy, and can move things with your mind. I can already move things with my mind, but I usually have to also use my hand. Other times, foot.
That’s what my wife takes as well. Among other things, of course.
I had an ex on Ambien. Her sister was on it too. I took one one time for fun. It gives you AWESOME dreams. Sometimes nightmares, but always weird.