Out, damned drug!

My subconscious is Pandora's Box with a can of worms inside, if my dreams are anything to go by.  A place where all suppressed horrors and most feral, animal stuff is kept locked away because the world, quite frankly, wouldn't want to see it.
Only at night, sleep somehow lifts the lid and my subconscious mind goes of on a wild technicolour trip; like a mad, bad, road movie no one wants to direct. These dreams leave me tired and they seem to linger on in the morning, unwilling to go back to wherever they came from, and I come to slowly, having spent hours in a hyper-real 'other' reality, with a residue of menace in my mind. 

They always involve hideous scenes of threat, cruelty, butchery, being dismembered and un-made, a loss of language, the inability to be heard and understood.  In a nutshell, vivid and frightening.  I don't know if my subconscious is doing it's own thing, or if it is under the influence of medication.  I put Mirtazapine in the frame for this, since I take it at night before bed.  It's other use is as a pre-op sedative, and there seem to be a lot of users who experience intense, horrible dreams.

This is the price I pay to get some sleep, a non too pleasant side effect, and there are others.  Before Mirtazapine my mind didn't know it was night and time to rest; I'd spend the wee small hours painting skies, knitting, making strange dolls, seeing that all the door handles needed a good polish and basically being overactive at completely the wrong time.  Which leaves you feeling even more like a sore thumb, odd-one-out, square peg trying to fit in a round hole.
So I chose sleep.  Now I'm not so sure.  Wish me luck as I wave it goodbye.