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A Dream (I Pray Will Never) Come True

I can’t tell you enough times how nice it is not to wake up in the middle of the night in a pool of my own sweat, on the verge of hyperventilating, trying to figure out if I am sober or not. What I am describing is the phenomenon of awakening from a drug dream. Once the sleepless nights of detox ended, incredibly vivid drug dreams began, and had become a regular part of my sleep cycle-until recently. Every night in rehab it seemed I would slip into a slumber, and like clockwork I arose around 3:00-3:30 AM with a racing heart; immediately checking my arms for fresh tracks. Why was my mind teasing me like that? At the beginning I really wished I was high when I woke up. However, over time, that feeling morphed into hoping I didn’t really get loaded.

 

For the longest time my using dreams consisted of all the regular events that led up to getting high, but I was never able to experience the feeling of being truly good and high. I would go cop some heroin (and coke, depending on how broke I was in the dream… haha) bring it home, cook it up, drop a filter, draw up the solution into a syringe, tie off my arm, puncture, register, and plunge. Right as I began to feel that warm tingly feeling run up my arm- the one that precedes the rush, I would jump up to a seated position in bed; like the father in the “Don’t Wake Daddy” board-game commercials from the 90’s. This continued to occur for a few weeks until one fateful night I hit the Mother Lode.

 

I had just finished a very emotional, intensive week-long experiential workshop in treatment. It was a Friday, and I was exhausted. I had never been so emotionally drained in my life. That night I fell asleep the earliest I had in over 5 years. Like always, at some point during my slumber I slipped into a vivid, super realistic dream. I was at my dealer’s house buying some Opana IRs, heroin, cocaine, and a couple clean rigs. We engaged in some small talk, as always, discussing politics and corrupt government. Next thing I know, I’m back at my house, in my room, prepping my shot. For whatever reason, I choose to combine all the drugs I have just purchased in my cooker, and draw up a full 3 mL syringe’s worth of the heavy duty concoction I have just prepared. I hit a vein, loosen the tie, and let ‘er rip. Something happened for the first time in my drug dream career: I made it past that warm numbing sensation in my arm. FINALLYY!! A freelapse! That feeling of utter bliss overcomes my body. I am speeding with the brakes on. My whole body is wrapped up in the warmest blanket on god’s green earth- I am floating on a cloud. The sensations continue to surge throughout my enlightened existence until, all of the sudden, I get the feeling I have stood up way too fast. I get really light headed and my vision flutters; all I can see are a million dots across my optical plane. Everything goes black.

 

Out of nowhere, I am out of my body. I seem to have taken the role of a surveillance camera tucked away in the top corner of the room. My body is convulsing on the ground. It looks as if I am seizing at the grand-mall level. Oscillating feelings of sympathy and pity are ever present inside whatever spirit form I have taken. My physical self comes to rest after one last violent jolt. I stare down at my limp, lifeless body with an empty syringe sticking out of the bend in my arm. Moments later my mother walks in the room and drops to the ground in shock. I want to comfort her, but I can’t. She lays right next to the remnants of the drug cocktail that has just killed me. I am unsure as to whether I am actually dead or not. She then belches a loud scream and before I know it, I am awake.

 

I am terrified and shaking. I have never experienced such deep anxiety and relief simultaneously before in my life. I immediately grab my composition book from my nightstand and log every last detail I can recount from this hellish experience. I am so grateful to be alive and sober. My eyes begin to well up as I feverishly jot down what I have just witnessed in my sleep.

 

It was such a real moment. I never want to forget this dream. It was the closest I have ever come to feeling the despair I would cause my loved ones if I were to overdose on drugs. I hold this experience very close to me and plan to continue to do so, for the rest of my life. I have yet to experience such a severe and intense drug dream since. Matter of fact, after this dream, the frequency, meaning and depth of the using dreams I’ve had have all decreased.

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Filed under: Recovery · Tags: Addiction, Alcohol and Drugs, clean and sober, cocaine, dreams, drug addiction, drug dreams, Heroin, Recovery, rehab, relapse, sober, Treatment, Using dreams, visions

  • molly

    wow. Thank you for sharing with such honesty.

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