Straight to REM

In a normal dream, I have a defense mechanism against a dream that is too outlandish or improbable. My brain recognizes the inconsistencies with reality, and while the dream is still occuring, I start thinking to myself, "Brad, this is a dream. Don't worry. Brad, wake up."

Maybe I'm weird, but sometimes when I'm tired, I fall straight into REM sleep.

No Stage 1, Stage 2, or Stage 3 sleep. No Theta waves. No twitching or involuntary movement. No erection. No Delta waves.

One minute I'm awake. The next, I'm in a dream. Nothing but a dream.

I lay down, and when my eyes finally close, I skip the first three stages of sleep, and jump right into REM.

The thing is, I know that I'm dreaming. I'm conscious of it. I know that what's happening isn't real. I can't control what I'm dreaming about, but I am definitely conscious that I'm dreaming.

I'm sure that sometimes the dreams are good, and sometimes they are neutral. The problem is, the one that happened yesterday, and the ones that I remember, aren't. The dreams are generally bad. The subject matter generally isn't scary, but the feeling I get from them is terrifying.

It's really difficult to describe. I'm sure that, if you've never had this happen, it will also be difficult to imagine. Bear with me; I'm going to do my best to describe what happened last night, and make you feel like it happened to you.

I hope you have your Imagination Hat on.

Imagine that you are lying in bed, reading a book. You're on your back, with your head slightly elevated. The covers are pulled up under your armpits. You're really into this book. Suddenly, you feel your eyes getting heavy. You nod off. You drop your book.

It startles you.

You pick up your book and go back to reading. After a page and a half, your eyes start getting heavy again. You try to keep them open, but you can't.

They close.

Your heart starts racing. You wonder, "Where am I?"

You realize that you're plummeting. You don't know where. It's dark all around you. You can make out circular walls around you. You feel like you'll never land. The walls at eye level light up with a very dim light. It's a harsh orange that ripples as you fall. You're staring straight down, but there's no bottom in sight. While still falling, your brain chimes in, "This is just a dream. You're about to fall off of the couch. Don't worry, this is an imagined Abyss. Why don't you try to wake up?"

So you listen to your brain. You think you're about to fall off of the couch. You figure this is just a normal dream - one you can exit when something outlandish or improbable happens.

But it's not.

You try to open your eyes, but you can't. You become conscious of the rate at which your heart is beating. You get a little scared. You tell the muscles in your eyelid to contract, to open up. But they don't listen.

You're paralyzed.

You try to move your arms, but you can't. You try to move your legs, but you can't. You yell at the muscles in your eyelids, "OPEN UP." But they don't.

You keep yelling at them to open up, yet they stay closed. In the dream, you look around at the walls. The light has gone. All you can see is blackness around you. You don't know if you'll ever land. Screaming is pointless, as the wind from falling cancels out any noise. You try to open your eyelids again. They feel like they are sewn shut. They will not open.

You start to panic. You wonder if this is real, how you got here, what's going to happen when you finally hit the bottom. Your heart races faster. Then you remember what your brain said. This is just a dream. You remember that this has happened before. You know it takes a while, but you always get out of the dream.

You struggle to get out, but you still can't open your eyes. You fight it. You can start to feel the muscles in your eyelids contract rapidly. You're almost there. You try a little harder.

They open.

Your heart is going a mile a minute. Your pupils are dilated, you're sticky with sweat, and you're trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

You remember that, in the dream, you realized that this type of thing had happened before. You console yourself, "It was just a dream."

You lie on your side, staring at the wall. You're wondering what causes it to happen. You're wondering why you couldn't open your eyelids. You exhale a sigh of relief as your heart returns to its familiar, rhythmic pace.

Your eyelids get heavy again.

This time you don't let them close. You're afraid that what just happened will happen again. You fight it the first two times they try to close, but the third time's a charm.

Your eyelids close.

You're immediately in a burning building with someone you love. There's no way out. Your heart starts racing. You begin to assess the situation. You begin looking for a way out. Just then, your brain says to you, "Wake up. It's just a dream. Your life isn't in danger. You're fine. This same type of thing just happened to you 5 minutes ago. It's happening again. You can wake up. Just try."

So you listen to your brain. You try to open your eyelids.

You can't.

This time, it's not as bad. Instead of feeling sewn shut, they feel like they have 5 lb weights sewn to them. You figure, if you can break sutures, 5 lbs is nothing. You struggle against the feeling of worthlessness. You try to open your eyes, but you just can't. You fight your own muscles. You keep trying.

You feel them quiver. They're shaking under the strain you're putting on them.

They finally open.

Your pupils are dilated, and beads of sweat have accumulated on your brow and your lower back. Your heart feels like it's going to leap from your chest and smack against the wall on the far side of the room. Your breathing is shallow and rapid.

You roll out of bed and walk to the bathroom. You seem to be fine. You have no visible scratches. Your arms and legs are working. You blink, just to be sure that everything is okay.
It was just a dream.

You splash some water on your face, and walk back to your bed. Your heart is still racing. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. You hope that your body isn't a fan of trilogies.

Your heart begins to slow down. Now all you have to worry about is your mind. It's all over the place. Neurons are firing from nowhere to nowhere, and you can't stop asking and answering your own questions.

"What did the dreams mean?" Probably nothing.
"Why did they happen?" Who knows?
"Am I normal?" Probably. There's a chance that you aren't though.

Your breathing returns back to normal.

Your mind starts to go blank, and your brain transitions from alpha to theta waves. You're in that semi-conscious state where you're about to fall asleep, but you if someone makes a noise, you'll still hear it. You feel your leg jerk, and it wakes you up.

You smile, because you know that involuntary movements are something that normal people experience right before they fall asleep. 10 seconds later, you're knocked out - sleeping like a baby.

Fate vs. Chance

Aaron texted me today asking about where I stood on the issue of fate v. chance.

I had never really thought of it before. However, in the past, I have said that I believe that everything happens for a reason. I don't know if I believe that though. Why should everything happen for a reason? Why can't things JUST happen?

I didn't get a D in my Linear Algebra course because the universe was spiting me. No, I got that D because I didn't prepare well enough, because I didn't like the material, because I didn't fully understand the material, and because I just didn't care. It was my fault that I got that D. I can't blame it on some malevolent being or force(God, or Fate) - only myself.

Yet, I don't think it's saddening to think that there's no force outside of my own free will that governs what's going to happen. My 'soul' isn't empty. If I have a soul, the thing is full to the brim with optimism and pessimism, good and bad. Everyone is simultaneously both sides of the equation.

It's highly improbable that we're here - that we're alive. Yet we are. I suppose you could call it fate that our sperm was the one that first collided with the egg, and began that initial cellular division. However, it could be chance that OUR sperm, that ONE out of the potential 600 MILLION others that could have gotten there - got there. I suppose it all stems from your beliefs. If you think that there's a greater purpose, that we're not here, just because - then I suppose it's fate that I got that D in math class. However, I like to think it's my own fault.

This entry is really funny because Aaron was the one who showed me this quote:

I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.

- Umberto Eco

I think that kind of sums up how I feel about fate/chance.

Things happen. Their only 'purpose,' is to aid in learning. Bad things happen so you can learn how to avoid those things. Good things happen so you can learn to make those things happen again. Neutral things happen so you have something to compare "good" and "bad" events to. There isn't some magnificent purpose to our lives. We're here to live and learn - and If we're lucky, to love and be loved.