I stepped outside and felt the crisp night. Sharply cold wind chimes dared to flow to my ears. I looked up at the stars.

I never tell anyone about my dreams. My real dreams. I used to share them - the real ones, the most common ones - but according to everyone I share them with, I have some of the most screwed-up dreams. They all involve me in surreal situations, being told not to do something, then doing it, then having absolute insanity ensue. Sometimes, I have flashbacks of my past in my dreams where I relive a situation except I'm not who I am and I do things that I would never do and it never works out well. I wake up hours before I need to and sit outside in the cold - because I'm so afraid. I lay down and stare at the stars usually just to calm down.

Out there in that chill before dawn, with the dim glow of the old streetlights, I secretly realize that I am being slowly driven insane by my life. And it’s not just the dreams.