The night before, I dreamed about Michelle Obama and being part of her wedding. It was HUGE! I had an elaborate red velvet dress and my hair was styled beautifully, with lots of intricate curls and hair accents, like pearls and such. Again, a pleasant dream.
It's nice to have dreams other than those centering on catastrophe, getting lost in amusement parks and/or campuses, or exploring dark, creepy warehouses that are used for sex clubs.
My mind is a strange place, but I love dreams of all types because they are fodder for stories and ideas. I pity those who claim they don't dream (they do, they just don't remember the dreams) or those who dream but have a hard time remembering most of them.
I'm not great at always remembering mine, but if I can grab hold of bits and pieces as soon as I wake up and place them in long-term memory, then I'm satisfied.
Of course, I've been taking Trazodone for insomnia and depression for a while now. Trazodone delivers intense dreams—and often strange ones at that. Many people don't stay on Trazodone because they can't handle the dreams that come with the territory.
As for me, I LOVE Trazodone dreams. Each night I'm taken on a journey, and I never know what type of journey it'll be or where I'll end up in the complex dreamscape. It's a mystery and there's always anticipation before I fall asleep.
Trazodone dreams don't bother me, but the tragedy and senselessness of events that happen in real life often do.
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