When having a vivid imagination is not a good thing

I have a really vivid imagination. Sometimes, this is a fun, cool thing. I get lovely pictures in my head from hearing different songs. I get great ideas for stories. I can spread my arms on a windy day and really be flying.

Other times, particularly when I dream, it's not always a good thing. Because I don't just have vivid, fun, or silly-weird dreams. I often have violent, intense dreams. And they are crystal clear, and loud, and very, very real. It is as though I am in that world. Sometimes, I am the victim of the violence, often I am just watching.

Last night I had one of the more violent dreams in recent memory. I don't quite remember all the details, but I know there was a man and woman in a house. The woman was afraid of upsetting the man, but she was also afraid of a break-in because they didn't live in a safe area. She called 911 one time, and the man promptly called them back, saying it was a mis-dial, that their phone was broken or something like that.

Something happened, and the woman realized the man had snapped. He intended to kill her. And she realized that she couldn't call 911, because he had already told the police their phone was broken and dialed the wrong number. I could see and feel her terror as he came closer and she couldn't run anywhere. And he didn't just kill her, he attacked her with a knife. I watched him cut her up. There was nothing I could do. And I knew I was dreaming, and I couldn't pull myself out of that world.

This is when I wish I could just shut my imagination off. Sometimes, I think it would be worth giving up the good parts so I wouldn't have the really bad parts. But I think I would be lost without the fun movies and characters and pictures and images that live in my head.