Lately, my sleeping habits have been deviated beyond my own control. At my job, I am required to shift this rhythm for working overnight shifts on the weekend and morning-afternoon shifts on certain weekdays. Thankfully, with the rise of employees being hired there, my hours are slowly being cut to make room for more productivity, a potential second job, and circadian normalcy.

But, being fully awake at 4:30AM is still strange to me.

Back while blogging at my previous site, I was in a state that provoked very irrelevant, strange, dark dreams, as if I was on some sort of trip during my painstaking sleep (literally painstaking). Now, my dreams and sleep habits are becoming more situated and I am becoming less depressed, less overtired nowadays.

I had a very exhilarating vision in my unconsciousness last night, that was terribly vivid. I was in a fighting vehicle of sorts driving in Israel’s Northern Hula Valley of the Golan Heights. I could perceive the ambiance of the dream as wartime. I remember looking through the tank’s (?) canopy, when I peeked into my gunner’s sight and captured the scene of raised missiles through a valley of wadies while its turret was turning (okay, so this vehicle was obviously a tank). The sight of missiles stunned me, and I remember cursing as I yelled for my driver to turn the vehicle.

We drove up through the incline between the wadies, and six Syrian SCUD platforms on Uragan launchers were raising their missiles for strike.

Out of immediate reaction, I fired the first shell at the closest Uragan, and the vehicle burst into flames along with an adjacent Syrian operator decked in camouflage. I was using illegal incendiary rounds.

In an unrealistic and stupid maneuver, the SCUD platforms, taking immediate note of our attack, began to turn while the missiles were in mid-mobilization, and backed in retreat while desperately trying to lower the missiles in aiming them toward my tank for self-defense. Bullets began to pelt our tank’s hull. I recall trying to catch a lock on these missile-heads while shifting the tank’s turret, and I unsuccessfully fired at these moving vehicles while my driver began to retreat and make an awkward J-turn in panic. It was an embarrassing disappointment.

With our vulnerable rear exposed, and the loader’s shells depleted, I yelled and cursed for the driver to move faster; luckily before any of the Syrian infantry present could mount a successful retaliation, our tank drove behind the rocky wadies we entered through, and we came to a nearby kibbutz farm where I advised an Israeli family gathering playing baseball on what had happened.

I believe HaShem was trying to reiterate to me through this dream Psalm 20:7:

Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our G-d.

Truthfully, I don’t appreciate the dreams I experience lately. They are foreign, strange, unwelcome. It would bring me much peace if I could actually be there, wake up in the same world, not having to worry about psychological switches in environment. This upsets me more than anything, because in my dreams, the hells of the past haunt my future hopes.

Peace will come.

Boker Tov


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