Jilllian

I rarely remember my dreams. Just bits and pieces, and only if I try to remember right after I wake up. I've never dreampt of a loved one who has died. Until last night.

A close friend of mine died of a heroin overdose last summer. We met as preschoolers and hung out together regularly into adulthood. We shared so many wonderful memories growing up. Prior to his death, I hadn't seen him in a few years.

The dream lasted about 10 seconds, it seemed. We were both our twenty-something-year-old selves in my dream, and apparently hadn't seen each other in quite some time. I ran toward him and jumped on him, straddling his waist and hugging him. He held me tight and we just stared at each other and smiled widely.

Two weeks ago, after much obsession thought, research, and planning, I made an attempt to take my own life. Sleep deprivation is devastating. It clouds your judgement, at best.

My dream had to be related to that incident. Was I happy to see my friend because we were both in heaven and no longer suffering? Happy to see him because we were no longer slaves to any drug, prescribed or not? Happy to see him because we were back in time to our simpler, care-free worlds?

Was he telling me not to make the same mistakes he made? Was he telling me (showing me) that he is okay now?

Maybe I was just happy to see him.