My Dreams are Getting Longer and Stranger

I just have to write about the dream I had last night.  As I've mentioned now and then, I saw a sleep specialist last summer.  I just never have slept well, and nothing would work.  My doctor would give me something like Ambien, and it would have no effect on me.  I would try this and that to no avail.  I would take something like Nyquil and end up jazzed and hopped up for hours.  So, I saw this guy, and he had me figured out right away.  Over a few weeks, we came up with drugs that would target my particular issues, and I started to sleep for what felt like the first time in my life.  Now, I do have to make sure I give myself plenty of time to sleep, about nine hours with ten being perfect.  The doctor says that I am recovering from about forty years of sleep debt.  He also said that I would start having longer and move vivid dreams as I entered the deeper levels of sleep.  I have always had odd dreams, but he was right about them getting stranger.

Last night, the first part involved being in a movie theatre that was as the base of an apartment building.  I was outside the theatres and in the hallway.  There was something I wanted to do, but Tria wouldn't help me.  I think it was some kind of fight over who was going to get credit for something or get recognized for something, and she got in there first.  So, I went upstairs.  There was some other stuff before then that I don't remember.

In my apartment, I found my sister and brother-in-law.  They looked exactly like they do now, both in their fifties.  But they were acting like teenagers.  And they were baby sitting two boys.  They might have been my step-brothers, but I'm not sure.  They, too, wouldn't talk to me or let me do anything, so I went to the back of the room.  The boys were loud and jumping up and down, and my sister and brother-in-law were eating chips or popcorn or something while lying on the couch.  My brother-in-law went in to start a bath for the boys so they could get ready for bed.

Then, my "father" got home.  I use the quotation marks because he looked nothing like my father.  In fact, he looked most like porn star Dean Coulter (link may be NSFW to some people) but with a thicker goatee.  He went into the kitchen, and I went in to hug him, and he started talking to my like the husband does when I hug him when he or I get home or if we've been ensconced in our offices here at home away from each other for a few hours.  And when I say he talked to me, I mean he was just using the terms of endearment that the husband uses with me, which could also be a way a father would talk to a child (yeah, you psychoanalysts can have your fun with that one).  Oh, and let me make it clear that I am talking about the adult version of me just as the teenagers were adult versions of my sister and brother-and-law.  I remember feeling like I was twelve even though I had a full beard and bald spot.

So, he's hugging me and asking if I'm okay, which I'm not, and the boys start screaming about how they need their bath before they go to bed, so my "father" goes in to start the the bath, but it's been running for awhile.  The tub is full with water spilling over the edges.  I run into another room to grab a bunch of towels that are all over the floor in the room where the teenagers are watching TV, stretched out on couches with their junk food all around them.  The towels are things they were supposed to have washed, but they are all over the floor.  My brother-in-law screams, "Aw, shit!  I forgot!"

Then, I woke  up.  Don't know what the heck any of it means and don't really care.  I'm more surprised that my dreams are getting longer and that I can remember more of them.  And they are getting even weirder.