Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

“Conflict is inevitable, but combat is optional.” – Max Lucade

No dreaming last night, at least, none that I could recall.   There was a stretch of time during which I did not dream at all, which was strange for me.  I’ve consistently had intense dreams surrounding a recurring theme since I was roughly twenty-four; to not dream was an unsettling feeling.  I believe it was Thoreau who said, “Dreams are the touchstones of our character.”

I was given something to help me sleep through the night, as insomnia had popped up on the growing list of side effects of a semi-private battle with depression, and I stopped dreaming for weeks.  I felt out of touch…zombified to a certain degree, mechanistic in nature.  I was caught off-guard by the resurgence of my dreams after my body became used to this new tool.

And they began again.

The dream started years ago, in which I found myself touring the house my father grew up in – the house in which a large portion of my childhood was spent – led by a realtor, as if looking to purchase the home.  This dream continued for a year or so, until one evening, by chance, I was driving through Watertown and realized where I was.  As I passed the house on Waverly Street, there was a For Sale sign in the front yard – of the house next door.  I mentioned this to my father, who told me that his father had purchased that house first, before moving next door.

Over time, the dreams evolved into simply surroundings.  Social events, home situations, all taking place within a large home that seemed to be my grandfather’s house.  Eventually, I was discovering secret passage ways and rooms in the house.

Lately, however, the dream has taken on a more intense feel.  I’m in the house, but I do not live there, and I make desperate attempts to reach the attic (where my grandfather spent a great deal of time) in search of something, never finding it.  I don’t know what it is I am looking for, and I am uncertain if I am aware in the dream…

When the dreams came back, it was an almost overwhelming comfort.  I lost my grandparents before I could fully appreciate them, and to dream such dreams sparks within me the sense that they are with me, still.

Advertisements

December 10, 2008 - Posted by | Randomness

1 Comment »

  1. Ang, I’ve been reading through your writing and just wanted to tell you – this is all fantastic!. Amusing and emotive and involving and just really, really good. Bravo. 🙂

    Comment by Kat :) | December 12, 2008 | Reply


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: