Most of the depressing, strange, delusional things that get me thinking about suicide stem from the bizarre and vivid dreams I've had all my life. There's just something about the dreams I have that makes them feel more significant to me than just random images and fictional storylines. Sure, some of them are obviously pointless, but then there are some that I'm convinced hold some deeper meaning. I've also become capable of lucid dreaming--it is a very real thing, and I assume others who've experienced it had the same feeling of a switch being flipped. After the first time you realize you're dreaming and can control it in even the simplest way, it occurs more often. It's not regular by any means--I've experienced it maybe 5 times in about 3 years--but when it happens it feels more real and more incredible than anything in waking life. It's like being inside Inception. You can literally do anything you want. It's hard to do much without getting excited and waking yourself up, but I'll just say that when you touch or kiss a person in a lucid dream, it's as real as anything else. Anyway, the reason I've just explained all that is that I'm concerned I'm becoming delusional about it. What's worse is that I'm developing anxiety over whether or not I'm delusional. I can't explain it, but dreaming is just so much better to me than living. It's not a good thing or a normal thing, but I feel like that's my world. Nobody can hurt me there, even in a nightmare. I can have whatever I want and love whomever I want. I want to get better at lucid dreaming so that I can essentially be the "architect" of my own world--my "dreamland"--but I don't want to develop an obsession that destroys me. I'm not sure where to strike the balance. Anyway, that's my thought about the dreams I have. Anyone else ever felt this way about it?