Last week I wasn’t really myself – I stopped seeing dreams. Of course, there’s a chance that I saw them but didn’t remember, but in my case it’s more than unusual. Those who know me even a little bit understand that it’s a real tragedy for me not to see them. Crisis line was during the night before Saturday.
As if it wasn’t enough that I stopped seeing dreams, moreover I started to sleep 8-10 hours instead of normal 7.5 and still I don’t sleep to feel good enough. Ok, let’s imagine I needed some rest. That I can accept.
After the night before Saturday I realized that I had enough. After 9 hours of sleep I woke up with pain in all muscles. It wasn’t a pain-tiredness from doing nothing all day long; it was a pain that is breaking body after a good working out. Which means that bastard is seeing the dreams, gets tired but doesn’t connect me to the visual part.
In the evening I was getting sleepy as usual and my body shot down without telling me. Though few hours later my body woke up.. but not really in a nice way. When I woke up, I lifted myself up a bit but started to fall asleep right away so falling back I hit a corner of the bad and turned off.
Surprisingly it solved the problem. After that I saw dreams as colourful as I haven’t in a while. I could see people whose company I was missing recently. But the best part was that I saw how I was painting pictures that were becoming alive right at the moment of me painting them.