A DIME ON A BEACH

I woke up depressed.

It's one thing to get depressed during the day, but to wake up depressed is a whole other experience. I have no idea why this happens. I've flipped through the pages of my dreams, the ones that follow me around for a few days and haven’t come across anything in them that would cause me to become depressed. Nearly all my dreams are colorful, with a great cast of performers. I never see myself as anything but an emotionally involved participant of whatever's going on in the dream, though I have no human form. In other words, I don't see me in my dreams. I can't take charge of the dream or mess with whatever it is that’s on the menu.

Some people say they can manipulate their dreams. I would love to be able do that but I'm usually too absorbed in the dream to think about going out into the lobby for popcorn. I'm a part of the dream until it ends and another one begins.

I always wake up at night and go to the bathroom. I've done it ever since I was a kid. For me, sleep isn't complete without having to get up at least once in the night to use the toilet.

Lately, after I wash my hands, I'll get an apple out of the crisper, peel off that annoying little sticker on it, wash the apple, dry it off, and go back to bed and eat it. After I've finished, I'll wrap it up in a paper towel, put it on my nightstand, and go back to sleep, all in under fifteen minutes.

The brain is busier at night than it is in the day. Even with all that's on your plate, your brain's not as busy when you're awake as it is when you're asleep. From what I've read, the brain is busy resolving issues, cataloguing new experiences, and sorting debris left behind by thoughts. Dreams are the way your unconscious mind attempts to interpret what the brain is filing away in its massive warehouse of memory and emotion.

You can die from a lack of sleep but you can't die from a lack of dreams. Some people suffering a brain injury may never dream again, but it won't kill them.

Something dark and unexpected made me depressed from the time I fell asleep to the moment I woke up. It wasn't a dream because I can usually recall most of the scenes from my dreams and figure out what I saw or felt that would cause me to wake up depressed.

Tonight’s unconscious performance should be interesting theatre. Whatever it is hiding in the shadows of my mind will either reveal itself or be unceremoniously filed away under U for Unknown. Whatever happens, the brain will make sense of it even though the ego remains clueless. Sometimes trying to find out what it is that’s depressing you is like trying to find a dime on a beach. No matter how hard you look, chances are you'll never find it in all that sand.