When a Dream Feels Like Home - Stephan's Digital Garden

# When a Dream Feels Like Home Planted: 06 November 2025 Last tended: 06 November 2025 The human mind's process for grief and attachment is rarely linear. Often, it plays out in the theater of our dreams, where logic is suspended and emotion takes the stage. A recent dream of mine served as a personal example of this phenomenon, highlighting the struggle between a desired illusion and a difficult reality. After writing the dream down and sharing it with friends, since it genuinely shocked but also fascinated me, I decided to share it here as well. I believe it to offer an insight into a mind still processing loss after almost eight months, and it also represents what I believe was my first encounter with a pre-lucid dream state. --- In the dream, I found myself with someone I lost at the beginning of this year in an architecturally impossible space: a blend of my childhood home and a residence we shared for almost two years. The dream's narrative was centered not on an event, but on a persistent cognitive struggle: the ever-present suspicion that it was all a construct of my mind; a dream. Although this person was in front of me and the surroundings were impossible, I never fully realized it was a dream. Even classic 'reality checks' like studying my hands or pinching them didn't break the dream's integrity. I was left only with the impression that something felt off, yet as far as my dreaming self was concerned, I was awake. The most poignant moment came when my dream self expressed something I believe in retrospect to be incredibly heartbreaking, while looking into this person's eyes: >*» If this is a dream, I rather die than wake up again. «* In response, I was met with pure compassion. They asked if I often felt this disconnect from reality, assuring me that everything was okay and I wasn't dreaming. And as I recalled other dreams, dreams within this dream, where suspicion had led to me waking up, I let my guard down and stopped questioning the reality in front of me. Instead, I spent the time with the one person I thought I'd never see again, along with a little dog that was just as chaotic in my dream as in real life. Eventually, I did wake up, though I can't remember what led to it, or if anything did. To me, this dream was a stark reminder of something I've said for years, but which has taken on new meaning this year: you can't escape your heart. You can't escape your inner truth. Subconsciously, it lives with you, no matter how much you distract yourself or try to deny it. This dream felt like my subconsciousness reminding me of that reality. The moment I woke up, the dream made me think of *Inception* and Cobb's rules for detecting a dream state. The most telling clue, in retrospect, would have been trying to remember how it started, a beginning I could not trace, even after waking. I'm no expert on the topic, but given the constant suspicion I felt, I was likely in a state of pre-lucidity: sensing something was off, performing reality-checks, but yet not being able to fully break through. What has stuck with me all day since are my words, "If this is a dream, I rather die than wake up again", and the compassionate smile and reaction I was met with. Even now, the memory of it leaves me speechless.