I had to look for help, the dreams were all consuming, it had been about a year, and I figured that I was getting an unhealthy amount of sleep. There were just so many important things happening to dream-me and I had to be there to see it all. Dream-me was helping our dream girl cope with the recent miscarriage and the grief definitely brought them closer. Dream-me proposed and our dream girl said yes; they’re currently looking at houses and planning to try to have another baby. In real life I was late for work almost every morning and my supervisor had threatened to fire me. I stopped leaving my apartment for anything but work and I was taking sleeping pills to maximize my sleep time. And I was surprised when my brother showed up randomly to check on me; we rarely ever talk.
“Hey, Ad.” I was just home from work waiting for the sleeping pills to kick in and I answered my door cautiously.
“Oh, hey. Good to see you. Come in I guess.” I didn’t want to invite him in. My place wasn’t exactly a mess but it wasn’t neat to my family’s standards. Growing up, my parents were all about appearance so everything in our home was always dust free and well arranged. It’s a habit that my siblings and I inherited and even though I never had guests, my place was normally very tidy. I felt self-conscious at the thick layer of dust that was collecting on everything in my tv room. I had a tv that I never watched and I wondered if it was even possible with the gray pall that covered it by that point.
I could see my brother surveying everything and judging me as we talked. He never sat on my couch and we both stood like we were in a stranger’s house.
“You need to confirm for the Valentine’s dinner. Mom sent me over, she’s finalizing a menu and needs an exact count. You haven’t been answering your phone.” He said that last thing like it was news to me. I deliberately turned my phone off as soon as I left work so as to avoid any distractions that would keep me from sleep. I hadn’t even really noticed all the missed calls, or I did but I knew that addressing them would only eat up my time.
“I’ll be there.” I forced a smile and looked toward the door as a hint that he could leave.
“Ok. 5 sharp on Sunday. You bringing someone?” He was moving towards the door and I followed him.
“Don’t be an asshole Jay.” That definitely slipped, my brother and I never show anger toward one another. This too is a hangover from our childhood where fights between us kids would always warrant severe punishment from our father who also valued appearances and wanted our family to always present a united front, despite whatever feelings of anger or agitation we were expected to repress. But, my brother knew that I wasn’t seeing anyone and though we never really talked about it, I assumed that he was always mocking me and my loneliness to whatever girl he was probably infecting with herpes this month.
“Whatever, man. See you Sunday.” He left quickly before I could see how angry he was.
After that outburst, I did seek professional psychological help and they suggested a sleep study since the source of all my problems were the immersive dreams. “Maybe if you see that you’re sleeping normally then you can throw away that delusion that you’re actually leaving your body,” my psychologist said. So I went to the sleep services clinic in Pineville for an evaluation, not really hoping for much.
I arrived at the clinic earlier than my evening appointment because I was so anxious. I had to wait in the waiting room and I met a man named Silas who was also early for his study.
“What brings you in?” He asked. He was older than me, probably middle aged, and he looked exhausted but he was smiling. He had deep lines under his eyes and though his skin was dark, he seemed pale.
“Strange dreams,” I said. “My psychologist thought this might help.”
“Wow, that serious, huh?”
“You have no idea.” My openess with the stranger was odd, but Silas was an easy man to talk to.
“I bet I do,” he said. “I have strange dreams too.”
“Yea, but do they seem so real that you believe you go somewhere else when you sleep?”
Silas chuckled. “Yea, they do actually. And it’s not a nice place.”
Maybe I wanted him to admit that my situation was the worst possible thing that could happen to a human and I said, “Well my dreams are all about regret. I’m sure I’m going crazy over this girl. She wasn’t my girlfriend, I couldn’t even tell her how I felt, but I’ve just been stressing myself out over things I didn’t say and now I’m dreaming about this other life I could be having if I was more assertive, you know? And it feels so real, like a parallel reality. It can’t be real though.”
“Don’t be so quick to write it off.” Silas was still smiling.
“You think your dreams are real?” I asked.
“Oh, I know they are.” Silas said confidently. “I’m only here for the sleep study to see if I can get evidence.”
“How could that be possible though?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” Silas looked at the expensive watch on his wrist then stood and stretched. “It’s about that time.”
I stood too. “So where do you go in your dreams?”
“Oh, I go to hell,” Silas said very casually. “Any time I sleep, if I nap, if I pass out, I go to hell. And I know it’s real because I’ve seen people I know there.”
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