Dream On

A lot of my friends chose psychology at sixth form. I admit the study of the mind does sound interesting, but I wasn't interested in the slightest. Unless you're Professor X, the mind should be left alone. It's a chaotic and hopeless mess, something that couldn't possibly be understood with a few lessons at sixth form where you're wrestling hangovers, hormones and horrendous theories from a set of out-of-date crackpots.

But this post isn't about why psychology is good or bad; such a discussion should be reserved for only the boldest of internet nerds. After two weeks of solid dreaming, I found myself Googling everything related to the grey matter upstairs.

Let's put this into perspective first. I am a cynical old man, and there's no two ways about it. Karma, luck, horoscopes, mediums, as far as I'm concerned, all just one big pile of smouldering manure. I've watched Derren Brown's programs thinking I'd take this more seriously if it was staged in Middle Earth with Pokémon and Vanessa Feltz doing a hand-jive. Trying to understand the mind is like trying to fathom why Jennifer Anniston gets better looking with every passing year, why Carly from The Inbetweeners can't act, and why my Dad still manages to confuse me with my brother.

I've been back at Uni for 3 weeks. For the last 2 of those, I've had a vivid dream every night. Not ridiculous dreams where I can fly or where I actually grow up. But dreams with realistic situations, with family and friends popping up, with either a main part or a cameo appearances.

It's getting quite odd especially as I don't really dream that much. I can still remember some of my worst dreams as a child, like the one where an innocent little owl from a Disney film came and snatched me from my bed Maddie-style. That was the last time I watched that particular Disney cartoon with the blue owl, and even to this day I haven't watched it.

Unfortunately, one of my dreams wasn't of being Morpheus

This morning I woke up after an incredibly vivid dream wondering what the fuck was going on. I was half expecting Tyler Durden to walk into my room with breakfast in bed, such was my mental instability (those of you who haven't seen Fight Club and might have inferred I am gay, then shame on you). Cue about an hour of Googling various things from 'vivid dreams' to 'what causes dreaming'. Needless to say, I'd swallowed the red pill and fallen right down the rabbit hole on this whole mind thing.

Apparently. continuous vivid dreaming is caused by stress, emotional detachment and the longing of something. The fact this sounded so ridiculously gay led me to dismiss it immediately. But every website and every question had the same response. My face was looking like the smiley made up of a colon and a forward slash, with the word 'hmmm' after it.

Such crackpot old nonsense had no place to tell me who I am and what I'm feeling. But then I felt in denial, was I really longing for something more? I certainly didn't feel stressed and I didn't feel alone. So what in the name of all that's holy was going on?

After all of that, I put it down to dreams being dreams. Christopher Nolan tried to make dreams more complicated than they need to be in Inception last year. People's 'dreams' come true on Britain's Got Talent and XFactor, and people dream of a White Christmas - well, they used to until it actually happened. They are what they are. I'm not looking for a psychiatrist, I don't want a Professor Trelawney-type character to tell me my future from the leftovers of a beverage.

I might start looking for a new mattress though, or failing that, a new pillow at least.