Nicotine Patch Nightmares
The rules of dreams always fascinate me. Maybe not the rules themselves, but how easily in my sleeping state I accept them.
Since I have been using nicotine patches to quit smoking I have had incredibly vivid dreams.
The night before last I dreamt my mother died and woke up crying. In my dream I remember her request to be cremated and her ashes be placed in a rum bottle and set out to sea. I had haggled with the funeral director and told him that he couldn’t pull a fast one on me because I used to work in a funeral home and I knew that I didn’t need all the expensive bells and whistles to have her turned to ash. I requested a witness cremation without a container and when her ashes were presented to me, I didn’t want an urn, just the plastic bag with the little metal disk inscribed with her number inside of the black plastic box that cremated remains go into before being given to the family. I went to the liquor store to buy the bottle of silver rum that I remember her liking.
Even in my dreams I am sober, so I poured out the rum and transferred her ashes. Without question I drove 5 minutes to the ocean despite living unreasonably far from any real ocean. I put the bottle in the water and watched it float gracefully at to sea.
The next thing I know, I am waking up to tears streaming like rivers down my face and a completely soaked pillow.
Last night I dreamt that Joseph and I went to a restaurant. We ordered and the owner of the restaurant was classically handsome in the way that old movie stars were handsome. His deep voice held a French accent and I couldn’t stop staring when he passed by. The meal finished and Joe went to get the car which was the Honda Fit that my ex boyfriend drives. I started gathering the backpacks beneath the red velvet and dark wood booth. There were 4 backpacks that we most certainly didn’t bring with us and I recognize them all as bags I own in my closet.
Never once did I question how they got to the restaurant.
I gather them and see the owner at a high top table and decide to give him my number. He accepted it and gave me his in return and asked if I would like to join him at a wedding. I accepted and was immediately swept into another room adjoining the restaurant into a beautiful ceremony. I was suddenly in a dress keeping my eyes on the backpacks against the wall. My memory gets hazy but the next thing I remember the wedding is over and I gather the bags and go to meet Joseph at the car.
I walk outside and he is nowhere to be seen. Rain starts pouring and I dial his number in my phone only slightly concerned that my phone will get wet while I look for shelter under a San Francisco style stoop which does nothing to protect me from the downpour.
I finally get ahold of him and he says he is at a friends getting some sound mixed and that he had to leave me because I was taking too long inside grabbing our stuff. I get upset and tell him he should have come back to help or at least called. He tells me he cannot come back to get me so I hang up and start to wander. I pass the owner of the restaurant who no longer has an accent, talking loudly to three of his coworkers through buck teeth.
I walk by them and sit on the corner of the road with a soggy princess dress and 4 backpacks and start my pity party.
When I woke up I was baffled. I’m sure that my dream was my subconscious still being a bitch about yesterday’s slip up.
It’s not that the dreams were particularly interesting in any way, but that I remember them like they were memories. Like I had lived a completely different life in the span of 6 hours.
Nicotine patch dreams are better than lucid dreams even if my psyche is only into having vivid nightmares right now.
Since I have been using nicotine patches to quit smoking I have had incredibly vivid dreams.
The night before last I dreamt my mother died and woke up crying. In my dream I remember her request to be cremated and her ashes be placed in a rum bottle and set out to sea. I had haggled with the funeral director and told him that he couldn’t pull a fast one on me because I used to work in a funeral home and I knew that I didn’t need all the expensive bells and whistles to have her turned to ash. I requested a witness cremation without a container and when her ashes were presented to me, I didn’t want an urn, just the plastic bag with the little metal disk inscribed with her number inside of the black plastic box that cremated remains go into before being given to the family. I went to the liquor store to buy the bottle of silver rum that I remember her liking.
Even in my dreams I am sober, so I poured out the rum and transferred her ashes. Without question I drove 5 minutes to the ocean despite living unreasonably far from any real ocean. I put the bottle in the water and watched it float gracefully at to sea.
The next thing I know, I am waking up to tears streaming like rivers down my face and a completely soaked pillow.
Last night I dreamt that Joseph and I went to a restaurant. We ordered and the owner of the restaurant was classically handsome in the way that old movie stars were handsome. His deep voice held a French accent and I couldn’t stop staring when he passed by. The meal finished and Joe went to get the car which was the Honda Fit that my ex boyfriend drives. I started gathering the backpacks beneath the red velvet and dark wood booth. There were 4 backpacks that we most certainly didn’t bring with us and I recognize them all as bags I own in my closet.
Never once did I question how they got to the restaurant.
I gather them and see the owner at a high top table and decide to give him my number. He accepted it and gave me his in return and asked if I would like to join him at a wedding. I accepted and was immediately swept into another room adjoining the restaurant into a beautiful ceremony. I was suddenly in a dress keeping my eyes on the backpacks against the wall. My memory gets hazy but the next thing I remember the wedding is over and I gather the bags and go to meet Joseph at the car.
I walk outside and he is nowhere to be seen. Rain starts pouring and I dial his number in my phone only slightly concerned that my phone will get wet while I look for shelter under a San Francisco style stoop which does nothing to protect me from the downpour.
I finally get ahold of him and he says he is at a friends getting some sound mixed and that he had to leave me because I was taking too long inside grabbing our stuff. I get upset and tell him he should have come back to help or at least called. He tells me he cannot come back to get me so I hang up and start to wander. I pass the owner of the restaurant who no longer has an accent, talking loudly to three of his coworkers through buck teeth.
I walk by them and sit on the corner of the road with a soggy princess dress and 4 backpacks and start my pity party.
When I woke up I was baffled. I’m sure that my dream was my subconscious still being a bitch about yesterday’s slip up.
It’s not that the dreams were particularly interesting in any way, but that I remember them like they were memories. Like I had lived a completely different life in the span of 6 hours.
Nicotine patch dreams are better than lucid dreams even if my psyche is only into having vivid nightmares right now.
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