Funny thing about waking up 7 times a night: the dreams don't necessarily end just because I wake up. There's a confused agony in trying to realize that the dream is separate from reality while simultaneously trying to void my mind of thoughts so that I can fall back again. It doesn't help that the dreams themselves are stressful and depressing.
I feel like Ray Fiske from Damages, who had recurring dreams of his teeth falling out in a bloody mess because he was holding back a secret... except that I have no secret. There is no Prednisone involved here, just my body's not remembering how to get through a night's sleep without the interruptions of pain or incontinence. It's finding other outlets...
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