Bad Dreams We All Have

Bad dreams are like annual physicals; we all have them but don’t want them, they are unpleasant, and sometimes leave us wondering did that really just happen?

You know the ones I’m talking about. That big test you didn’t study for, showing up for gym class naked, forgetting to be there for the big event, or taking a tumble and falling to your death. Those are some of the most common bad dreams we all have – unless you’re a cop, because then there are a few more to add to the list. Maybe you can relate.

The Thousand Pound Trigger

In this dream you find yourself in a deadly force scenario. You’re in the right place at the right time. You have all your faculties available to you and are able to correctly react to the situation. You confront the bad guy who is unleashing death and destruction, so you draw your gun, line him up in your sights, and pull the trigger. Only the trigger weighs a thousand pounds and you can’t pull it, try as you might. Your hands and fingers feel uncoordinated or disconnected as if the signal from your brain to your extremities doesn’t work anymore. Your gun won’t fire, you’re as uncoordinated as the captain of the chess team on his first date. And then, the bad guy focuses all his attention on you. It’s game over. No hero award, no key to the city. You brace yourself for impact and then as the muzzle of his gun flashes in your face you snap awake in a full-on hot yoga sweat. You had your chance, and you blew it.

Bouncing Bullets

The motor vehicle stop went wrong. The driver pulled a gun and started shooting. Somehow you’ve dodged the bullets as you play ring-around-the-rosie with the driver who is now trying to kill you, using your cruiser as cover. Tonight, your hands are working. You can manipulate your gun with ease. You take the shot, then another, and another, and another. You watch as the bullets leave your gun and fly towards him, right on target. You can see each round as an individual projectile and follow them with your eyes until they strike – and bounce off. One by one the bullets hit, bounce, and fall. They have no effect. Incredulous, you fire again and again. This can’t be happening. You question the reality of your situation, wondering if it’s the gun, the bullets, or the bad guy. Why isn’t this working? You are more frustrated and confused than you are scared. A switch is flipped somewhere and you wake up. You find yourself feeling slighted, even depressed, with a cloud of what could have been hanging over you.

The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

You can’t remember how you got here, you just know you’re in a fight for your life. Your hands work, you feel coordinated. Your gun works and your bullets fly. They hit their mark. As they do, you feel a sense of relief because you survived. You did what you were trained to do. And then, at almost the same time, realize the bad guy is not stopping. He’s not going down. You fire your pistol again and again, watching as the bullets strike. They are not bouncing off this time, so why isn’t he going down? You keep moving, keep firing, your accuracy is impeccable, but it just won’t end. Why won’t he die? You are in a cat-and-mouse kind of loop that you should be winning, but for some reason the bad guy is invincible. No matter how many times you shoot it has no effect. At some point your subconscious finally says Uncle! And you wake up to your heart beating faster than Spaceball One traveling at ludicrous speed. Relieved that it was just a dream, you can’t help but lay awake thinking it over and over, reluctant to accept that there was nothing more you could have done.

So This Is What It’s Like To Be Dead

The sensation of gunfire hitting your skin is startling, but strangely painless. You stay in the fight and shoot back, but the bullets keep coming and the thought finally enters your head that they must be fatal. They must be. Your body feels heavy or weighted, and your mind’s eye goes dark. You’ve been shot and killed and so you think to yourself, So this is what it’s like to be dead. Wondering what people will think, how they will feel, what comes next for you, all swirl around as you are impossibly conscious of your own thoughts and of the darkness you conjure them in. There are no bright lights, no angelic voices, just your own thoughts that eventually lead you to the realization that you don’t like this and hope it’s just a dream. Finally, you come to, and realize that you had just been holding your breath. Again. Somewhat panting like you just came up from underwater for air, you open your eyes and strain to see the landscape around you that is your own bedroom, outlined by the crack of light coming in through the curtains. It takes a minute, but you come back to reality, you come back from the dead. That was really weird.

Where Am I?

Pursuits are one of the most complex tasks that we perform, whether we are running or driving. And if you’re directionally challenged like me (at least my wife says I am) then you know how challenging it can be to keep one eye on the bad guy and the other eye on where you are and where you’re going. If no one knows where you are then no one can help you. But this time, you do everything right. You watch his hands, you glance at street signs, and you know what direction you’re headed in. As you close the distance you call the play-by-play into your lapel mic and you get your man with an open-field tackle, followed by some kung fu action John Wick would take notes on. Then, all of the sudden, you look up from your quarry, and you have no idea where you are. You are lost like a toddler at the mall. And not just feeling lost, but confused, because a second ago you knew right where you were. Frustration sets in, followed by disbelief, and the stress of wondering how you’re going to get back to your cruiser, back to the station, or even what to do next. It’s like the street signs change, or disappear altogether, the landscape shifts, and you are in a labyrinth built by the doubt and fear of a thousand daydreams. Upon waking you feel like a failure, and figure you’ll just keep this one to yourself.

Being A Firefighter

Just kidding. I’ve never dreamed of being a firefighter – not even my subconscious is that demented.

Doing Chores

If you’ve had dreams like these, you’re (probably) not crazy, they come with the territory. The mind is powerful, to be sure, and it’s amazing to me how mere thoughts can elicit physical responses in our bodies – elevated heart rates, shortness of breath, sweaty palms, and butterflies. 

Personally, I don’t spend any time wondering what my dreams mean or if they even have meaning at all. I just know that while I’m sleeping my mind is doing its chores. It’s sweeping out the corners, stacking boxes, sorting memories, and filing things away like us when we have to clean the basement or the garage. It’s fascinating and scary and amazing and troubling and messy and – common.

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• Have you had dreams like these?
• Do they make you feel crazy?
• Do you spend time worrying about them?
• How does it feel to know that you are not alone?

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