Black & White Fringe Poncho: Wallis | Distressed Jeans: Old Navy | Black Wedge Booties: TOMS | Pendant Necklace: Jewelmint (old) | Watch: Michael Kors (gift)

So, I have a history of having really bad night terrors and nightmares. Like, to the point where I wake up crying and I’m terrified to go back to sleep.

I become like a little kid again when I have one – even now. I always wake my husband up and say, “Baaaaabe! Honeyyyy! I had a bad dream. Snuggle me!” <—- Imagine me saying that in an extremely whiny kid voice.

Anyway. I usually don’t want to talk about the dream when I wake up – I usually just want to find something to distract myself and think about something else so that I don’t fall back asleep and fall right back into the middle of the dream. You know what I mean?

Well, the other night I had another one of my really bad dreams. And I did my usual wake-husband-up routine… but this time he made me tell him what my dream was about.

Mind you, it is 3am, I have just woken myself up from this horrible, no good, very bad dream. I am still half asleep. I am extremely groggy.

I refuse at first, but finally oblige my husband and begin telling him about my dream.

“Well I was in this haunted house… and this person was there and this other random person was there and the next thing I know the invisible ghost of this person’s grandmother was picking me up and swinging me around the room taunting me…”

I am continuing to tell him the gory details of this dream, but the more I described the dream the more I even realized how RIDICULOUS it sounded in my groggy state.

I started cracking up through my tears.

Seriously. The more I described it the more absurd it became.

I realized how irrational my fear was. But while I was in the midst of it, it was terrifying.

Does that ever happen to you?

It almost felt like a big metaphor for life.

I’ve been talking about fear a lot on the blog recently. Fear of moving forward. Fear of reaching goals. Fear of trying.

Maybe my fear (and all of our collective fears) are really like my stupid night “terrors” – not really scary at all. It’s just a figment of our imagination. Our fear is our mind playing tricks on us. And as soon as we start to verbalize our fears, we realize how silly they really are.

Am I making any sense?

Tell me I am.

What does all of this have to do with this outfit? Absolutely nothing. Other than the fact that this poncho (which I happened to catch on a black Friday sale) outfit (inspired by the fabulous Shanna) is extremely comfortable.

Anyway.

Do you have bad dreams? Do you have ridiculous weird dreams at night? How do you cope?