These Dreams of You

The night before last I slept fitfully, at best. I awoke over and over again as the night wore on. Every time I woke, it was with the feeling that I had lost the only thing in the universe that mattered. I wasn't sure what it was, or how I had acquired it, but that I had lost it. I felt panicky, desperate, frantic. I needed to find it, but I didn't even know what it WAS. And then I'd wake up enough to realize that I had been dreaming, just a dream. But as I sat there in the dark I could not shake the feeling that it wasn't 'just a dream', that it was the most real thing that had ever happened to me. Did I blog about the fish dream? I'll have to go back and check. The dream dictionary says, of dreaming of fish:
The water represents the deepest level of unconsciousness, and fish ideas darting through, and in the dream I was trying to lift the (idea) fish out of the water and hand it to someone on the bank. It leapt back into the river with me.
What was this idea, pulled from the depths of my unconsciousness, that escaped me, or didn't get handed to the right person? What am I trying to tell myself?
In this dream of loss, I felt the thing I'd lost had cost me much, and the dream dictionary I use says that often money represents spiritual knowledge.
I'm seeking you, God. I feel like I've counted to 1,087,387,944, which is how many seconds old I am. Ready or not, here I come.