A dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep.
- Walt Disney's Cinderella, 1950

Dreams are weird.

For the past year-and-change, I've been keeping a dream journal. I try to write in it every morning but usually only have the patience for it a few days out of the week. It's taken many forms. First, it was a tiny little spiral notebook I found on sale at Meijer with little pink and brown stripes. Then, it was the fraternal twin of journal #1, only this one was polka-dotted. Now, it's my used Gender Studies notebook. Don't worry - I ripped out the three pages I used for the class.

Through these journals, I've learned a lot of weird things about myself. Supposedly, the purpose of a dream journal is to "familiarize the person with their dreamscape" and help people become lucid dreamers.

(lucid dream: a dream where you know you're dreaming)

I can definitely attest to this theory. I don't have lucid dreams every night, mind you, but I have them a lot more often since starting the journals. Even then, I don't realise for a while. I'm working on that bit. But they allow a nice escapism. The rest of the time, I'm left at the mercy of normal dreams. Which is usually fine.

Usually.

I  don't have nightmares often, thankfully, but I have been having some lately. Normally, I would just disregard them. But since I don't usually have nightmares, I figured I would try to pinpoint the cause. After some thorough research (and by that I obviously mean clicking on the first link on Google) I found the answer.

Stress.

What a shocker.

A few days ago, I was talking to a friend about a breakup. The two had been going out for a long time and he was pretty devastated. Obviously, I felt horrible for him and tried my best to comfort him. A few nights later, I had a dream about him retelling me the story and his ex stalking us around a building. The nightmare progressed into something out of a slasher fic. It was horrible.

I woke myself up, terrified, and wrote down everything I could remember. It was so vivid. So fresh. So freaking terrifying.

I went through the rest of the day in a sort of haze. I was tired and generally felt very down. The nightmare had seemingly sucked away all of my energy. I couldn't focus on anything. The haze built up until I was forced to pull an 8-hour homework binge because I had neglected to finish it earlier.

The point is, I went to bed stressed. I was stressed for my friend. Stressed about my own personal stuff. They were the last things I thought of before going to sleep.

Well, that was a mistake. And I have the journal entry to prove it.

It's my belief that dreams tell us more than we realize. They reveal how weird we are, how we think, and what's really hidden underneath all of those song lyrics. I've realized a lot about myself from rereading old dreams I wrote down. They were telling me things I needed to hear. They also revealed the times when I really needed to take some time for myself.

I believe my nightmares were telling me to calm down. To take it easy. I have a lot of stuff going on but that doesn't mean I have to stress out about it 24/7. I'm allowed to have some me-time. And that goes for everyone else as well.

I recommend that everyone try keeping a dream journal. If anything, they'll be therapeutic. They also might tell you things you hadn't realized just yet. And isn't that what we all want, really? To know what we want?