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I have vivid dreams. When I close my eyes at night, a whole new world appears, in living color. My dreams hold smells and sounds and sights that often rival the sensory reality of my waking life. There have been times when I could swear I've seen people, had conversations, and done things in real life, when these memories were simply creations of my sleeping mind. I know that I talk, run, laugh, and cry while I sleep; something that makes sharing a bed with me a real challenge. I suppose that the vividness of my dreams might be a reflection of the constant activity in my brain.

I don't mind dreaming as I do. When my dreams are good - they are really good. When the visions bring me peace or joy or love, I feel enveloped by those emotions, warmed by them, wrapped in them like a baby in a blanket. Unfortunately, when my dreams are bad, they are really bad. I've dreamt the deaths of my loved ones, the crumbling of buildings, and explosions on too close horizons. I've dreamt of being confused, wounded, and trapped. I've even dreamt my death a few times - on those occasions, my dreams have darkened to an abyss and I have struggled my way into reality with tears filling my eyes and sobs caught in my throat.

By far, the worst dreams I've ever had - even worse than those that include visions of my untimely demise - are the dreams that accompany a low bloodsugar.

The very first time I had a severe overnight low, my mother awakened to "blood-curdling" screams. "There is a a man jumping on my chest! He is crushing me! Please make him stop! Plllleeeasseeee!!!" My mother remembers that even though my eyes were open wide and filled with tears, I seemed convinced that I was being attacked. That night, my bloodsugar upon arrival at the hospital was 22 mg/dl.

These kind of "attack" dreams during overnight low bloodsugars have continued into my adulthood. Most recently, I woke up, clawing at the blankets and sheets, running from the bed in a clamour of clumsy arms and legs, screaming that I couldn't stop - because something was chasing me. This dream grew its roots in a bloodsugar of 47 mg/dl. Thankfully, this time, I came out of the dream and into myself just enough to treat and avoid a visit from the EMTs or a hospital run.

There are certainly nights when I have a low bloodsugar that isn't accompanied by a vicious nightmare. But even on those nights, it is typically a strange or odd or slightly frightening dream that stirs my senses and nudges me awake. And on those nights, as I drink my juice or eat my glucose tabs, I am often haunted by the creepy dreams that pushed me from sleep.

Over the years, I have learned to warn roommates, friends, and lovers with whom I'm sharing sleeping space about my dreams. I tell them that I dream vividly and that if I have a low bloodsugar in the middle of the night, I could wake up screaming, writhing, or running away. I've scared more than one person away with this warning.

Obviously, I've been thinking a lot about low bloodsugars lately. And I've been thinking about the reasons why my overnight lows manifest themselves this way. I've wondered, specifically, about the attack nature of the nightmares that accompany 99% of these insulin reactions. There is a simple and obvious explanation - that my body and my mind, feeling assailed and threatened by the drop in bloodsugar, create dream-images that are in line with those feelings. But is it more? Could it be that feelings of helplessness and vulnerability, supressed in real-life and in times of normal bloodsugar, are being communicated through my sub-concious in my dreams? Could it be a simple backfiring of my - mostly wonderful - tendency to have vivid, all-too-real dreams?

Any ideas from my fellow dreamers - my fellow diabetics?

And please share - how do you dream? And are your dreams - their intensity or their content - effected by bloodsugar level?