Last night I was on a steam train, going to boarding school while, at the same time and with a growing sense of panic, I was trying to bake a loaf of bread. I knew I didn't have enough time for the loaf to rise and the stress was getting to me.
By the time I woke up from this, my most recent dream, my heart was racing and I felt breathless.
Dreams like this aren't a rare occurrence - my dreams are regularly vivid, colourful and panic-inducing. Some are one-offs while others are repeated over and over again.
I often dream I'm searching for something in an old, crumbling house, or discovering abandoned rooms in my childhood home. Occasionally, the dreams will become nightmares, featuring bereavement, murder or terrifying chases up spiral staircases.
By contrast, my husband tends to have dreams so dull he either doesn’t remember them, or recounts such gems as: ‘I was waiting to buy a new printer cartridge and the receptionist told me to take a seat.’ Thrilling stuff.
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