For the last six months or so, I’ve had a recurring dream that goes like this:
I’m standing in a room of people. Sometimes, it’s the Mamamia office. Other times, it’s a nondescript social event, or family dinner. I’m aggressively grinding my teeth, and can’t stop. When I go to open my mouth to speak, my teeth fall out. In slow motion, they move through the air, twirling and sparkling like perfect pearls, before landing one-by-one in my hands. I look up to see the blank expressions of those around me, and feel overcome with shame – positive that this is the most horrific thing to ever happen to me.
I have this dream every week without fail. Each time I wake up in a flurry of anxious movement, profusely sweating and hyperventilating, all before I realise my teeth are exactly where they were the night before – in my mouth.
(My boyfriend is such a lucky man to share a bed with me every night. Poor fella.)
When I told some friends about my recurring dream, and inevitable 2:00am breakdowns, their response took me by surprise: it just so turns out they’ve dreamed about their teeth falling out before too.