I Don't Sleep, I Dream
"Whatever you do, don't fall asleep" - Nancy Thompson (Heather Langenkamp)
Wes Craven's A Nightmare on Elm Street was released in 1984. I first watched it on a rented VHS tape in the early 90s; far too young to see such a scary film.
The story of child murderer-turned-dream-demon Freddy Krueger was captivating to me, in part because of its Catholic origin. Freddy’s mother was a nun, and the horrific circumstances of her impregnation were treated as a shameful secret. (My own, not-at-all-horrific but still traumatising relationship with that religion can be read about here.)
The aspect of A Nightmare on Elm Street that has stuck with me for decades is the fear its protagonists face throughout the nine films: falling asleep. I've always had problems with falling and staying sleep, although not because of demonic visitations or real corporeal threats. My problems can be summarised in five words: my brain won’t quiet down.
Often I'm kept awake by a section of a song playing on repeat in my brain, like a vinyl record locked in a groove. A familiar lyric and melody repeats for hours, sometimes disrupting my sleep for the entire night. It’s always a brief passage, maybe just a few seconds long. It's maddening. I guess it's a negative consequence of my obsession with music?
To combat my lifelong sleeping issues, I’ve taken courses, medication, supplements and natural remedies, and received tons of advice from doctors and others. I've learned lots of beneficial sleep practices, some more feasible than others. Exercise helps — but not too late in the day. Turning my phone off and reading for a while helps, too — but is easier said than done. One of the best solutions I've found is listening to nature sounds via the Calm mediation app. “Jasper Lake” is my favourite. My ears focus on the nature sounds and since I am not hearing music, I am not actively listening. It’s the only soundtrack I’ve found that is relaxing and not distracting.
When I do eventually fall asleep, I have vivid, realistic dreams. Sometimes I'm doing mundane tasks like writing emails and spreadsheets; other times I am embarking on epic adventures. At a point in every dream, my logical brain registers something odd, which obviously can’t be real — and I am hit with an overwhelming sense of relief that I’m in a dream. If it’s a nightmare or a boring dream, I’ll stop it there and move onto a new scenario. If it’s a fun dream, I’ll resume the adventure and see what happens next. I love the thrill of realising my dream, be it boring or exhilarating or terrifying, is not real and I get to choose my next night-move. Is that lucid dreaming?
A few years ago, I learned that not everyone has recurring dreams. I found this surprising, as I assumed everyone did and no one talked about it. I have one recurrent nightmare: I’m inside my childhood home, alone, at night. I’m in the kitchen, standing over the sink, looking out the window at the backyard. I watch as a dark shadow, a faceless figure in all black attire, climbs over the fence and into our yard. I can’t see who or what it is, but I sense imminent danger. I run around the house and lock all the doors and windows — barely, just barely, arriving milliseconds before the shadow figure gains entry. Sometimes I go and hide in the basement for extra protection. I don’t recall the figure ever successfully breaking in. I usually wake up by this point, sweaty and shaken. I’ve had this same dream thousands of times and it’s always terrifying. What does it mean?!
I was inspired to create this playlist by the excellent R.E.M. song, “I Don't Sleep, I Dream.”
I have compiled 20 songs on those two themes; I focused more on lyrical continuity than curating a sleepy vibe. Only a small handful of these songs are bedtime jams to my ears… but I wouldn’t really know.
Sleep is and always has been the consistently poorest-quality facet of my life. I desperately want to improve it, and I have some of the tools, but it’s an ever-shifting challenge. Given the many proven health benefits of consistent, high-quality sleep, my issues will probably result in my early death. The eternal sleep.
In the meantime, I’ll keep dreaming.