I hear you on this, but I have come to appreciate that my dreams are not always limited like my real world is. When I had cancer, it got really bad. I could not speak for months. I could barely walk. The constant pain, even on a hefty dose of opioids, was all consuming. Just watching TV took too much energy, so I stared blankly at the wall while my family tried to carry on around me.

But in my dreams? In my dreams I was still me. Once I fell asleep, I could talk, laugh, run, and have the freedom I had lost in life. I could play with my kids. I could spend time with my friends. I could exist without pain.

None of it was real, and in the beginning I cried when I woke up, but the dreams kept coming. It didn’t matter if my real life was not worth living - my dream life carried me. Waking up stopped being a sad thing and instead became what falling asleep used to be. It was a transition to the less interesting part of my life.

I am better now, but I am not the man I was before I got sick. In my dreams, though? The pain is still gone. My energy has returned. My waking life is worth living again, but my dream life is freedom from the shackles of my body.

I am sorry your dreams hurt you. Maybe the day will come that the pain they bring you now becomes a blessing. I hope in time you and your dream life make peace.