I’ve been thinking a lot about the stuff that plays behind my eyelids when I finally crash. You know those loops your brain gets stuck in? The ones that feel less like dreams and more like something on repeat that you didn’t agree to watch again?
I’ve got two that keep coming back lately, and honestly, they’re exhausting.
The Hunt
The first one is just straight-up terrifying.
It starts with this warning. A maturation egg, something organic and wrong, like it doesn’t belong in the same world as me. I have to sit there and watch it grow, knowing exactly what’s coming. That’s when the adrenaline kicks in. It becomes a countdown.
I’m trying to find somewhere to hide, but there isn’t one. There never is.
Once it hatches, it’s a chase.
Sometimes it’s just a presence. No face, no body, just intent. Other times it’s a man with no face. Either way, it knows where I am.
The worst part isn’t even the thing chasing me. It’s everyone else.
They see it. They know what’s happening. I go up to them, I ask for help, I beg them to do something, to hide me, to acknowledge it. And they don’t. They just keep going. Like I’m not even there. Like none of this is happening. I feel completely invisible, even in the middle of a life-or-death crisis.
There’s always a little bit of blood around. Not enough to be dramatic, just enough to confirm what I already know: something has already gone wrong.
I spend the whole dream running, dodging, trying to outmaneuver something that doesn’t get tired. And right when it’s about to catch me, my brain finally hits the panic button and I can suddenly fly. I lift just out of reach.
For a second, it feels like escape. It never is.
He catches up. He always catches up. Sometimes it ends with a shot to the head. Sometimes it’s just the moment before impact.
That’s when I wake up, sitting straight up in bed, heart racing, trying to remember how to breathe.
Hell of a way to start the day.
The Longing
The second one isn’t violent. It’s just heavy.
It usually starts outside, in a neighborhood. Streets that feel familiar. Houses that look like they should belong to someone I know. It’s quiet in that normal, everyday way.
I’m looking for someone. Or maybe I’ve already found them. That part shifts.
There are people around. Friends, or at least people who should feel like that. We pass each other, we smile, but we don’t talk. Everything looks fine on the surface, but no one actually sees me.
I try to talk to this person I’m looking for, and it’s like I don’t land. They don’t respond. Or they respond just enough to keep things moving, but not enough to actually meet me. Like I’m slightly out of sync with everything around me. Like I’m invisible to the one person I need to see me.
Sometimes I end up inside a church. Sometimes it’s my dad’s old office from when he was dean of admissions. Different place, same feeling. Like I’ve stepped into somewhere that should mean something, and it just… doesn’t.
Other times, I’m at a university at night. It’s raining. I’m waiting for a ride that either never comes or already left without me. Eventually I get to my car and start driving, trying to find my boyfriend’s house.
Except it’s not his. It’s always the house of someone from my past.
And I know it as soon as I get there. I just stand outside in the rain, looking at it, holding onto something I can’t even name anymore. It’s not hope exactly. It’s not closure either. Just this deep, familiar heartache.
Waiting. For something.
But for what?
Cars pass. People move. Life keeps going somewhere else. I’m there, but I’m not.
At some point, the feeling gets so heavy that I try to force myself awake. I know I’m dreaming. I’m telling myself to get out. That’s when it hits—that sleep paralysis glitch. I can’t move. I can’t open my eyes. My brain is yelling at me to wake up, and my body just… doesn’t. I’m stuck there, pinned under the weight of that longing.
Not fear exactly. Just this deep, sinking awareness that I’m alone in something I can’t explain to anyone else.
Connecting the Dots
I don’t think these dreams are random.
One is about being chased by something that won’t stop. The other is about reaching for something that won’t meet me. Different shapes, same feeling.
In both, I’m the only one reacting. The only one trying to fix something. The only one who seems to notice that anything is wrong at all.
Maybe the faceless man doesn’t need a clean definition. Maybe that’s the point. He’s “Life” or he’s “Loneliness”—he’s whatever shows up when something feels unavoidable and out of reach at the same time. I can’t put my thumb on it, but I know it’s bad.
I don’t think these dreams are trying to scare me anymore. I think they’re trying to get my attention.
What do you think these dreams mean? What are some of your dreams?
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