I've hated my dreams since my surgery. It is always about things I can do or have, like walking, doing normal things I know I'll never be able to do again. They seem to drive me nuts. They seem so real. So real that I think I am in real like and real life is the dream. It is hell when you wake up and you're still in hell after having a dream of heaven. It just drives the depression deeper. I would go into them but I really don't think that many would understand them.
But lately I devised a way to make me realize they are dreams and not real. I make a flaw in them. I would make one of the people have a weird film over their face. Or when I go into a stairwell I shrinks down infinitesimally. It helps me to know that it isn't real and I can't get lost in it. This maybe counter productive to what dreams are supposed to do, but I am just done dealing in false realities and false hope.