Have you ever had a hyper realistic dream that you still remember after years?

I had a dream I was on a plane. A totally normal flight. Going in for a landing when things went wrong at the last minute. I swear I could feel the heat of the flames as I saw them coming through the fuselage as the plane is breaking up around me. I woke up on my feet beside my bed sweating. I’ve never had a dream like that before or since. I’ve never done drugs or other vices. That was over a decade ago and I can still remember it like it was a real event in my life. Like it was landing in Denver, I was sitting a few rows from the front on the left isle on the emergency exit row.

DLSchichtl,

Thanks to my medication, every dream is hyper-real and vivid.

ComradeR,

Quetiapine?

DLSchichtl,

Effexor

00Sixty7,

This is gonna sound so fake it’s ridiculous, but at least it’s short. This was about a decade ago when I was about to go to college, so that factored into the setting, but the other part? No idea. Basically, I was riding around my college campus on the back of a raptor, saddle and all. I was having a blast, and everybody thought it was so cool that I had a badass dinosaur to ride around on, because obviously nobody else did. That was the whole dream, zero plot, nobody got eaten, just me and my raptor buddy having a grand ol’ time stomping around campus.

6db,

I once went to work, did all my normal work routines- Went to meetings, filled out my time sheet, requested time off for the holidays, rejected some code, etc. When I got back home I suddenly woke up and was pissed because now I had to actually go to work and do all that shit hahaha

morgan_423,
@morgan_423@lemmy.world avatar

A “dream” (?) I had a month after my father was killed. A long story, apologies for the book.

To start with, for clarification, I have always been a lucid dreamer, going back to childhood. Not every night. Not every dream. But every time I had realization in a dream that I was dreaming, I could control circumstances and events of the dream the entire rest of the time I was having it. Every single lucid dream. Without exception. Likely a few hundred times by the time this happened, just shy of my thirtieth birthday.

I was dreaming of playing backyard football with my friends as a kid. It’s a happy memory, and I dream about it now and then. This particular night, I was in lucid mode. I was having fun doing whatever I wanted (throwing 200 yard touchdown passes, running around like an Olympic sprinter, what have you… I kind of return to my ten year old self in this one).

Before one play, the football suddenly deflates and goes completely flat. Weird, I think to myself… I don’t feel like I caused that to happen. But whatever. I tell my friends I’ll change the football out, and we’ll get back to it. In my mind, I summon up the equipment shed from my campus recreation officiating days back on campus in college.

I open up the shed and step inside. It’s just as I remembered, of course, but kind of dark, not much light is bleeding in here from outside. I do a 180 toward the door to flip on the light. And I felt everything change. Everything. And I didn’t cause it. I also hadn’t looked at it yet. But I felt it.

Instant warmth. Comfort. A sense of peace that I can’t really describe… language isn’t really sufficient.

I turn around and see that I am in the foyer of a beautiful house, full of warmth. It is pure wood tones through and through.

I realize that I can really smell the air… The woods, and the ocean, in a perfect balance. I recall never having a sense of smell in any other dream, lucid or otherwise. I’m not panicked or worried, this place is just too peaceful for fear to be. Just confused.

Lying on a table next to an open window is my favorite cat from my childhood, Pudding. I give him a scratch right behind the ears in his favorite spot, he purrs, rubs into me… like hey buddy, missed you. Almost like it hasn’t been almost twenty years since he died, the last time I saw him. Realization dawns.

Realization that I still know that this is a dream. Or at least I thought it was. But if this is still a dream, and I realize this is so, why is all this stuff happening without my control? That’s certainly never been a thing in a lucid dream before.

And why am I smelling the fresh air of a forest that is twenty feet away from the ocean? Why do I have tactile feel of my furry buddy who died years ago? It feels like reality. Crisp, sharp, full of senses normally non-existent or dulled in normal dreams.

I catch some movement to my side and turn. Walking down the stairs, with a smile, is my dad. He’s clean, unhurt, in perfect shape… not at all like he was in the hospital when I last saw him, beaten up and brain dead. Before I even know what’s happening, he’s got me in a hug. I’m too stunned to react much.

“You’ve always been too stingy with the hugs,” he says. The feel of him, the sound of him talking… so real. I realize fully, finally, 100%. This is no dream. I hug him back, delighted.

As I pull away, all I can say is, “Aren’t I dreaming?”

He gives me the look he has always given me when I ask a completely stupid question. “Are you?” he says, all good-humor-light-sarcasm.

“But how… where are we?”

“My place,” he answers. “I needed to talk to you. Let’s go in there.”

He leads me down a side hall into a study. The few seconds while we walk, I’m still trying to reassert control. Open the floor and have us plunge through. Have him start dancing a jig. Have the house catch on fire. Anything to have proof that this is all a dream. Nothing works. As we enter the study, he tells me, “Morgan, son, seriously. Let go and relax.” He gives me that wry smile he gives when I’m being ridiculously amusing. “You’re not dreaming. Sit down.”

The room is supernaturally strong with the smell of cedar. Of pine. On the bookshelves, I’m noting some of my Dad’s favorites. Tolkien. Stephen King. James Clavell. A light bulb goes off over my head. This house is pretty much what my Dad would build if you gave him a perfect house button to press to make it come into creation. In a way, it feels like a piece of him, as real to me as he was right at that moment.

I take a seat in a wonderful leather bound chair. He sits across from me and says, “after this, we are going to talk about some things, and you won’t remember any of it consciously. But I had to tell you.”

And we talked. I felt the hours. I don’t remember the specifics… he was absolutely right about that. But I remember some feelings. Happiness and relief that he is okay here. Some good times… I think it was a good talk. Some sadness. I remember him hugging me goodbye. “I love you son.”

I woke with tears pouring out of me. Things “awake” felt… less real somehow, but still as they always were. I spent the next couple hours talking to my wife about what happened, in the middle of the night.

In the following days, I went back over my experience in my mind, while it was fresh. I came to the conclusion that it was most likely not a dream, because it was so unlike any other dream I had ever had before (or have ever had since). I left a small chance in my head (like maybe 2%) that it actually was a dream, because I’d been grieving pretty hard, and maybe there was some weird chemical imbalance in my brain chemistry or something. I was even slightly miffed at dad that he used this experience on me, and not my younger sister (who was taking this as hard as I was, if not more so).

Then, in July the same year, my mom fell ill and passed away. And I hit the wall of pain all over again. But this time, with a sliver of peace that I didn’t have last time. I realized that this is why Dad shared this experience with me. He knew this was going to happen, and soon.

I’ll never forget the gift. The view into the other side. The transition that makes my grief for those who have passed into a selfish thing… that I trust that they are fine, and I’m really just sad that I’m not going to see them again for a long while.

LaSaucisseMasquee,

Incredible story and well written, you have a gift.

Maybe you are dreaming now.

morgan_423,
@morgan_423@lemmy.world avatar

Thank you. It doesn’t hurt the ability to tell the tale that this is still so strongly etched in my mind. It still feels like it was 15 minutes ago, and not 15 years ago as it actually was.

ThatsMrCharlieToYou,

I’ve not thought about this for a few years but yes. When I was a boy, I used to have a recurring dream of myself climbing this surreal-y tall climbing frame type thing. It was in an empty field. It had four repeating sections like a rope swing, rotating bridge, thick net, monkey bars, climbing wall etc. Stuff you’d typically find on an assault course or game show. It was even padded with the foam and vinyl you find in kids’ play areas. I’d have that dream most nights and would always fall out of the thing after 2-10 sections had been climbed. Well, I had resigned myself to continually climbing this thing each night and being awoken once a night as I hit the floor after falling. I’d always start at the height I fell from the previous night but progress felt minimal. Then, I finally reached the top. I remember looking around this field atop this ridiculously tall structure and feeling this great accomplishment. I genuinely couldn’t, and still can’t, believe that I got to the top. There was a massive slide from the top. I don’t think I could properly express just how long this was from the height. I rode it down and that was the last time I dreamed of it. I kind of miss that dream.

optissima,

I had a dream, when I was a young teen, about being the single parent of a daughter (mother died in child birth). I remember the 18 years of raising that child better than most of my own childhood memories: taking her home from the hospital, first steps, signing up for elementary school, taking her to school every day, watching my child grow up. Getting into disagreements, teaching to bike, the panic of the first day of her period (she tried to hide it because she thought she’d be in trouble). High school, school clubs, prom, college applications. We got into a disagreement on her 18th, and she told me I was a terrible paren, that I’d failed even being friends with her, which was the opposite of how I thought it was going. She appeared in the front door with a suitcase, and walked out stating she’d never see me again, and the dream ended. To this day it still shakes me, but not as hard as it did when I woke up that day, broken for being a bad parent that I didn’t see.

BlessedDog,
@BlessedDog@lemmy.ml avatar

Reminds me of the guy who stared at the lamp for days

Edit: found the story, unfortunately it’s on reddit but oh well…

optissima,

That’s crazy. Yeah this was before inceptions release by a few years, and I didn’t see the TNG episode till 10 years later. Now everyone I tell this to jokes I’ve watched/played some game in Rick & Morty or something?

mister_monster,

Every so often I remember my dreams (I don’t usually remember them but I know i had them) and they’re always really, really bizarre. Never scary in the classical sense, to me at least, no nightmares, just intense and bizarre experiences.

One that stands out is that I was in a cave and the cave dwelling tribe had a king that was dying. I was to become their new king, and the king wore on his head a crown that was the head of a giant centipede, with the body of it running down his back. So the king dies, and they take his crown off his head and place it on mine, and in that moment I realize (via the centipede “talking” to me in my mind) that the centipede rules these people by controlling the mind of the king, that my mind would now be erased/meld with the mind of the centipede, and as I reach for my sword (?) to cut the centipede off before the process can happen I know that it cannot be stopped, is irreversible, has already happened and that the centipede cannot be killed. Then I woke up.

pipe01,

Damn, I’d read that book

LogicalDrivel,
@LogicalDrivel@sopuli.xyz avatar

What if your still being controlled by that centipede…?

SilentStorms,
@SilentStorms@lemmy.fmhy.ml avatar

When I was about 3 or 4 I had a dream that a purple alien landed in my backyard, and turned the neighbour’s dog against me. I was too young to understand what dreams were all about and I was terrified of sleeping for a long time.

It might also be my earliest memory.

lilmagpie, (edited )
@lilmagpie@lemmy.world avatar

I remember a dream I had while I was sleeping on a plane. I was with two other women and one of them was holding a little dog (similar to a pomeranian). They were talking normally, but I noticed the dog glaring at me with his abnormally huge, ice cold eyes. I can’t accurately describe the evilness and intense hate I saw in that stare, but it was out of this world. The dog jumped at me and bit my wrist and I started screaming. Then the sound of the plane engines gradually overlapped my screams, until I jolted awake with a nosebleed.

I had a nose surgery not long ago at that time, so it was not uncommon for me to occasionally get nosebleeds. However I still remember those evil eyes very vividly to this day.

IrrelevantBoB,

About 18-20 years ago I had a dream that I will always remember.

I won’t go into details, I don’t remember much of the previous moments either but basically I was shot in the head and fell to the ground, I no longer felt any pain.

It was the day I died in a dream, I don’t know how “real” death will be obviously but the one in the dream transported me to a state of total calm, without any pain… I don’t know how to explain that feeling.

kfx,

One can only hope.

abbadon420,

As a kid, age 8-10 or so, I used have a recurring dream about a girl who lived next door. I would go play outside with her. We’d play something different every night. The funny thing was that I had no girl living nextdoor. I lived in a rural area outside a small town with no families with kids around.

Years later I see this girl in a bar, we’re both 17 at this point. She looks exactly like the girl from my dreams, only a bit older. We’re now married and we have 2 kids.

kfx,

Assuming you told her about these dreams? What was her reaction?

Robsadaisy,

I have what I call movie dreams, sometimes they are fantasy, sometimes they are more non-fiction. Sometimes I am myself, other times I am a character and there’s even been a few where I am merely the camera -as I’m im not in the dream just observing. One of the fantasy ones that stands out was pirates fairies and elves, but in space. I was a shapeshifing fairy that was tasked with protecting a group of elves from pirates. I was setting decoys and running from and fighting pirates.

kfx,

That sounds awesome. Wish I had those!

chivalry7675,

I used to have a repetitive dream when I was much younger that felt incredibly real. The crux of the dream was always the same, I would fall through a hole in the pavement and I would usually wake up when I hit the bottom. Sometimes it would feel like I was falling for ages. I would always wake with a jolt too.

expresshermes,

Dreams about falling are very common. I have read that it usually happens when our body falls asleep after then our mind can comprehend so we get a jerk reaction that wakes us up.

I have also read that sometimes these dreams are due to anxiety.

Link to the article: psychcentral.com/…/dreaming-of-falling-into-water…

Kolanaki, (edited )
@Kolanaki@yiffit.net avatar

Two! Both when I was between 10 and 13 or so.

The first I had walked down the street to my friend’s house, knocked on the door, his mom answered and I woke myself up because I spoke out loud “can Shane come out to play?” The sound of my own voice woke me up because I was talking in my sleep.

The second was more or less the same. I left my house intending to go down to Shane’s house, but I tripped off the curb and woke up.

I’ve also had a recurring dream since I was a child that I would wake up in the middle of the night, fall out of bed and instead of simply hitting the floor I fell miles and miles through dirt and rock until I landed in a weird prison carved into dirt. I would be deposited into a dark hallway I couldn’t see the end to in any direction, an along one side of the wall were jail doors of cells. I could hear moaning and screaming and felt intense fear. But I would always wake up there and never “explore.” Not really realistic, but I still sometimes visit this dream prison and it still creeps me the fuck out cuz I don’t know what it means or why it’s always the same except for the place my bed may be.

such_lettuce7970,
@such_lettuce7970@kbin.social avatar

Yes, a nightmare I had as a child, many years ago (around 30ish). I was in a desert/beach....the air was dusty and orange-tinted. There was a gazebo made of wood, almost rotting or rotten, and a giant golem who trapped me in a wooden box. The whole thing was terrifying, and dry and hot.

Bipta,

I had this dream.

Bipta,

No I'm just kidding.

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