Two and a half years of bad dreams

I’ll admit one thing to you today.

I don’t sleep very well.

I associate myself with nightmares that instinctually make me shoot up in the middle of the night.

No matter how or when I sleep, I get up in the middle of the night for a brief second, realizing whatever I was dreaming about isn’t true thankfully.

Last night, for the first time in a long-long time, I slept WAY earlier than I usually do - 9 PM to be precise.

I got up at around 7 AM the next morning, stretching my arms, smiling, with the sun shining on my face.

I vividly remember that I had a beautiful dream.

No nightmares.

No instinctual adrenaline boosts in the middle of the night.

No trauma.

It was pure joy.

And you know what?

I am furious - to say the least.

I consider trauma, nightmares, and things like these part of a sharp mind. The discomfort is part of the hero’s journey.

I love the idea of unresolved fear that I have every night. My dreams, no matter what they are about, always have a conclusion that makes me think to myself - What was that about?

And you know what I do every single time I shoot up in the middle of the night? Remember my God and go to my desk to continue conquering this world.

I don’t want to wake up feeling cozy and stretching my arms. That takes the fun and challenge away from me.

AND I DON’T WANT THAT!

However, if God intends that I have good dreams from here on out, I can’t question that. This is a new part of my journey and I am very much looking forward to where this stage of my life is going to take me next!