When I was around 12 or 13 my grandmother gave me a diary. As a kid I was described as a quiet one, kind of kept to myself. I had a very active inner life. As an adult I still kind of live in my head. I do not keep an official diary if you don’t count this blog.:)

My grandmother wanted me share on paper what I seemed unwilling to share with my voice. Due to the nature of my family dynamic at the time, I was not comfortable sharing my thoughts where someone could find them. Hence the birth of my dream journal.

I would keep my journal near my bed and immediately wrote down what little memory of my dream I could remember. As time went on it got easier. At some point I could tell when I was dreaming while I was dreaming and tried to control the outcome. I still can’t really control the dream.
I stopped chronicling my dreams officially when I started to have episodes of sleep paralysis. The episodes happened frequently throughout my childhood and HS and sporadically in my 20’s. They were terrifying until I realized what it really was.

These days I do not need a journal to remember them and I only write down the dreams that spook me or strike me as off.

They say a dream is only as important or unimportant as the dreamer feels they are. What do you think?