{"id":3091,"date":"2020-11-23T07:40:59","date_gmt":"2020-11-23T12:40:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/weblog\/?p=3091"},"modified":"2020-11-24T07:38:49","modified_gmt":"2020-11-24T12:38:49","slug":"the-dream-is-always-the-same","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/weblog\/2020\/11\/the-dream-is-always-the-same\/","title":{"rendered":"The dream is always the same"},"content":{"rendered":"

One of the great gifts of “these trying times”<\/acronym> is the realization that depression isn’t my primary problem.<\/p>\n

Anxiety is my primary problem.<\/p>\n

The scientific method tells us that now probably isn’t the best time to consider that a hard conclusion given the amount of generalized anxiety in 2020 what with the pandemic and the possibility of a second Trump term<\/acronym>. There are some leading indicators that it’s a strong candidate though.<\/p>\n

I haven’t been a good sleeper for decades. Where other people see sleep as mechanical restoration or as a respite from the world, sleep for me is a challenge. It’s something I can never do right where right is defined as “coming out feeling rested, refreshed, and ready to take on a new day’s challenges.” Menopause has only made this worse.<\/p>\n

It started a couple of years ago with the hot flashes, which were fine as long as they were only happening during the day. When they started happening regularly at 03:00 they got more than a little inconvenient. At least they were predictable, I told myself.<\/p>\n

Somewhen<\/acronym> during that initial year I reformed my attitude on sleep. The idea that we should be sleeping 8 hours right through is misguided at best and farcical at worst.<\/p>\n

Waking up at night is normal, according to WebMD<\/a>. And while this is one of the few WebMD articles that doesn’t immediately lead to “You have cancer,” waking up can be an indicator of something serious.<\/p>\n

What matters, most experts says, is how quickly you get back to sleep. Which is a comfort when you wake up multiple times during the night.<\/p>\n

The thing is, removing the pressure to “get good sleep” combined with other good sleep hygiene habits – consistent bed time, avoiding sugar, caffeine, and digital screens at night – has actually improved my sleep. Sure, I still wake up multiple times but if I’m back to sleep in under 15 minutes, I’m usually going to wake up rested.<\/p>\n

Then the pandemic happened.<\/p>\n

My usual level of anxiety – around a 4 on most days – rocketed up to about an average of 7 on a scale of 0 to 10. And that’s when the dreams started.<\/p>\n

I don’t remember all of them. But they’re intense and weird.<\/p>\n

In one memorable one this summer I was part of an outlaw gang hiding in the mountains. While the gang played board games I had to figure out in a wintertime mountain environment how they could go surfing. Shades of Point Break <\/em>perhaps?<\/p>\n

Then there was the house with bleeding walls. That was a fun one. Strangely, it was the house from How to Get Away with Murder<\/i>.<\/p>\n

And my brain is susceptible to influence. Fuck The Mandalorian<\/i> and ice cave spiders. Fuck it right in the ear with a chainsaw.<\/p>\n

These nightmares have gotten so frequent that even though I have the physical reaction – the terror, the sweating, the awakening, the aftermath – when I have what I’ve started to think of as the basic COVID-19 nightmare I can pretty much shrug it off because I know what it means because the dream is always the same.<\/p>\n

Last night my two favorite grocery store chains had decided to open a location that was just one big megastore. Instead of having to go to one store for these items – special treats all because the closest outlet of this chain is not easy to park at and the next closest while easy to park at isn’t all that close – and this other store for the regular groceries, I could now go one single place to get all the yummy things I want to have in the house.<\/p>\n

The problem was it was grand opening day and everyone was there. And I do mean everyone. It felt like an aerial photo of JFK Stadium in Philadelphia during the Live Aid concert<\/a> in 1985.<\/p>\n

And no one was wearing a mask.<\/p>\n

Sometimes in these dreams I’m not wearing a mask, which adds an extra layer of anxiety and yet another way<\/acronym> for my brain to beat me up. Last night I was.<\/p>\n

Anxiety expressed is so commonplace it’s become a trope of film, TV, and novels.<\/p>\n

No matter what form the actions take, what happens, or what you do, the dream is always the same.<\/p>\n