Last night I dreamt I was drinking. Not the first time I’ve done this and it won’t be the last. I have really crazy dreams, in color, often. Even when I was drinking I had crazy dreams. Well…not at the end…then I just passed out and slept the restless sleep of a drunk.
The same thing happened to me when I quit smoking. I dreamed of smoking for years and would wake up so angry with myself for smoking before I realized I was just dreaming.
My usual neurotic dream is that it’s the last day of college and I have to take an exam for a class (usually math) which I haven’t attended all semester. Oh and I can’t find the classroom. And…oh yeah…I’m in a very short nightshirt with no bra (believe me when I say that this would NOT be good) – or some derivation thereof.
Now I get to add having a glass of wine to the above mix of dreamology. Last night I dreamt (dreamed?) I was on a business trip and my husband was there as well…apparently he had a business trip in the same place which is odd because he’s a retired, stay-at-home dad.
Anyway, at some point I became a valet and was parking cars for the hotel but when I went to get into the garage to retrieve a car it was the parking lot for the bank I’m trying to get a job at AND I didn’t have the right code to get in. Finally I just went back to our room and poured myself a glass of pink wine (I haven’t had pink wine since the 80’s) in a wine glass which then turned into a champagne flute. Wait. What?
My dreams are always like this. Stephen King says that dreaming is how your subconscious vomits. (Nice huh. I love Stephen King.) If that’s the case then my subconscious needs to go on a diet.
So now, every so often, I dream that I’m drinking. Always wine and always in some chic chic situation which is “oh so proper”. I guess that’s my subconscious way of making it okay to suck down the booze. Or maybe that’s the way I would like it to be. Or maybe that’s the idea of drinking that I carry. What…ever.
The important thing is that I no longer wake up longing for a drink. Now I wake up PISSED! In fact, many times I get angry in the dream and I start yelling at myself (cause in dreams you can do that you know) and I snatch the drink away from myself and pour it down the drain. Last night I just drank it and thought – hmmm – this is doing absolutely nothing for me and I don’t need the calories and oh by the way now I have to start all over AND get my tattoo redone…shit. Progress right? Who the hell knows.
What I do know is that I was very, very relieved when I woke up and realized that not only did I not drink but I did not have a hangover, my tattoo was in tact and I didn’t have to face my kids and tell them I fell off the wagon right before getting back on and going through all that hell again.
And when I said my prayers this morning I was extra, extra grateful that I was, by the grace of God, still a recovering alcoholic.