Why I’d choose nightmares over dreams.

About 3 months ago, I broke up with someone I really, really loved. The break-up, though, was a rightful culmination of all the irrational arguments, the petty actions we’d both stooped down to. There are ugly break-ups, and then there was mine. We broke up for a reason- peace- and the aftermath of our breakup made sure that neither of us got that.

Before I tell you why exactly I’d choose nightmares over dreams- please understand this. The pain of a break up is underrated. And don’t even ask my opinion on being dumped. You’re told to ‘get over it’ as if it was an episode of Game of Thrones, or that ‘someone better will come along’ as if it is okay to be so dependent on someone else for your own happiness. A break up where you break all contacts with your partner, who you have to still see every day in an official capacity, is a disaster waiting to happen. I’ve had breakups before, but none like this one.  This one scarred me.

Going back to three months ago. I was heartbroken, but I couldn’t even mourn my relationship because there was something else going on which needed my attention. I’d stay at friends’ place, resort to using all sorts of substances to stay away from reality. I guess I really didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that my life, in fact, truly sucked without him. I’d miss every tiny tidbit of the antics he used to pull off-  because after your break up, you truly appreciate the little things your partner did for you, most of which you were oblivious to, pre-breakup. That was the one time I really needed to focus on what a monster he’d been to me, which undeniably he had, instead my conscience chose the other way. That sucked.

For two weeks, I was a walking dead body, interacting with people as if it didn’t hurt at all. I was damned that I let this guy hit me during the course of our relationship, but I’d be eternally damned if I let him found out how vulnerable and puny I felt. During one of the days, I couldn’t get up from my bed for a couple of hours. I just lay there, wanting to get up, but unable to do so. I realised I needed professional psychologist’s help, but I just waited to see if I can pull this off on my own. I did eventually get out of my bed and house, taking my car with me, with no particular direction in my mind. I just drove.

My own house and life were haunting me and I didn’t want to be anywhere near them. I wanted to escape reality; period.  But I was sure I didn’t want to give in to the urge to harm myself in any other way except intoxication. I was NOT going to go there.

All this while, I used to have dreams. It’s been over 90 days now- they haven’t stopped. And while things in general have gotten a tad bit better, the one thing that has remained constant is the dreams- the same dream, which presents itself in a different way, each day.

It would be as simple as the four of us hanging out in his room- him, me our “mutual” friend and “our” dog. The way it used to be.

“So you really think it’ll work this time?” I’d say.
“It has to,” he’d say and hug me, “we were stupid. We aren’t anymore.”

And that’d be it. Sometimes we’d have the backdrop of a beach, sometimes a mountain, sometimes a restaurant but the conversation would be the same. I was pissed at my subconscious for doing this to me.

Presently, when I’m awake, I’m perfectly fine. It’s true- time does heel wounds, most of them, anyway. My trouble is when I fall asleep. I’ve disturbed my sleep cycle so that I sleep for as less as possible, and I get a very interrupted sleep at that. Instead of falling asleep early to get a long, uninterrupted sleep, I’d force myself to stay up all night, so that I go to sleep when everyone else is up -about 6 or 7 AM- when there’s enough noise around the house to keep waking me up after every hour or so. I haven’t missed a single sunrise in about 3 months.

These dreams keep giving me a sense of loss, every day, while in reality when I’m up and about, I don’t feel much sadness. Of course, there are occasional bouts of sadness, and that’s completely fine. But each day, waking up from having a perfect relationship, and each day having to break up with it- this is exactly why I’d prefer nightmares over dreams, any day. I’d rather have demons visit me during the night than my ex-boyfriend.