Whenever I have trouble sleeping, which is somewhat often I'm afraid, and more and more in the last two to three years, I have a number of recurring dreams that occur in the lighter stages of fitful rest. While I can't exactly call them "nightmares," they are weird and disturbing, leaving me with a sense of unrested dread when I set about my morning routines.
I took a fall on the job Monday, while walking the terrain of the lovely Beverly neighborhood. This rather mundane trip on broken sidewalk led to a rather unusually severe injury to the right hand. I will spare everyone the gory details, but recovery has been slow and the wound's discomfort has ratcheted up the insomnia. In the early morning hours, as I dozed slightly, two of my subconscious "greatest hits" made an appearance in my dreamscape. However, this time around I received a unique 2-for-1 bargain as they both appeared in the context of the same visual story arc.
I am going to some sort of high school reunion retreat. The class of 1996 is on campus, but in my dream, campus is a lakeside, rural, grassy institution that reminds me of photos of Ireland I have seen in coffee table books. Now bear in mind, I went to Lincoln Park High School in the City. The corner of Halsted and Armitage is no pastoral vision.
But the beauty of the campus belies the furtive anxiousness with which I arrive at the reunion. I am afraid my secret will be exposed. Somehow in the last semester of my senior year back in 1996, I forgot to attend a morning math class each and every day. My failure to show up resulted in my failing the course. However the school's bureaucracy somehow missed this and I was allowed to graduate with the rest of my class. I have since gone on to earn a BA as as well as a Master's in English, but if my faulty high school graduation is uncovered, the rest of my adult life tumbles like a flimsy house of cards.
Let's be clear: this never happened. As a matter of fact, I ended my high school career on a high note, with excellent grades, a steady boyfriend and a couple of merit grants to the U. of I. So what is this about? I cannot tell you how many times I have seen variations of this dream play out as I sleep, particularly in the last calendar year.
But that's not all. Last night's acid trip also included another variable that has been popping up more and more often in my subconscious: monstrous and threatening or faulty carnival rides. I have already mentioned that this reunion took place along a rural lakefront. Well this space contained a dilapidated amusement park of sorts along the banks, including 5 or 6 of the most towering and unsafe attractions that can be conjured. Somehow it was implied that I had to board these things at some point, but I didn't even want to stand near them. I love thrills, I love Great America. Again, what is this about?
I have Googled a number of dream websites in a quest for answers, but can't find any information that specifically addresses these scenarios. There is of course the obvious possibility that I am a nutcase, but I like to flatter myself things could be more complicated than that.
Any amateur dream analyzers out there in the blogosphere?
I took a fall on the job Monday, while walking the terrain of the lovely Beverly neighborhood. This rather mundane trip on broken sidewalk led to a rather unusually severe injury to the right hand. I will spare everyone the gory details, but recovery has been slow and the wound's discomfort has ratcheted up the insomnia. In the early morning hours, as I dozed slightly, two of my subconscious "greatest hits" made an appearance in my dreamscape. However, this time around I received a unique 2-for-1 bargain as they both appeared in the context of the same visual story arc.
I am going to some sort of high school reunion retreat. The class of 1996 is on campus, but in my dream, campus is a lakeside, rural, grassy institution that reminds me of photos of Ireland I have seen in coffee table books. Now bear in mind, I went to Lincoln Park High School in the City. The corner of Halsted and Armitage is no pastoral vision.
But the beauty of the campus belies the furtive anxiousness with which I arrive at the reunion. I am afraid my secret will be exposed. Somehow in the last semester of my senior year back in 1996, I forgot to attend a morning math class each and every day. My failure to show up resulted in my failing the course. However the school's bureaucracy somehow missed this and I was allowed to graduate with the rest of my class. I have since gone on to earn a BA as as well as a Master's in English, but if my faulty high school graduation is uncovered, the rest of my adult life tumbles like a flimsy house of cards.
Let's be clear: this never happened. As a matter of fact, I ended my high school career on a high note, with excellent grades, a steady boyfriend and a couple of merit grants to the U. of I. So what is this about? I cannot tell you how many times I have seen variations of this dream play out as I sleep, particularly in the last calendar year.
But that's not all. Last night's acid trip also included another variable that has been popping up more and more often in my subconscious: monstrous and threatening or faulty carnival rides. I have already mentioned that this reunion took place along a rural lakefront. Well this space contained a dilapidated amusement park of sorts along the banks, including 5 or 6 of the most towering and unsafe attractions that can be conjured. Somehow it was implied that I had to board these things at some point, but I didn't even want to stand near them. I love thrills, I love Great America. Again, what is this about?
I have Googled a number of dream websites in a quest for answers, but can't find any information that specifically addresses these scenarios. There is of course the obvious possibility that I am a nutcase, but I like to flatter myself things could be more complicated than that.
Any amateur dream analyzers out there in the blogosphere?
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ReplyDeleteWhile I wouldn't call these garden variety, they smack of anxiety dreams. Our worries and fears manifest themselves in idiosyncratic ways—in our waking, sub-and unconscious states.
I have recurring anxiety dreams that I can't dial the number that I need, I am missing the last train out, and/or I discover that I haven't worked all semester on the final assignment and it's due that day. Hmm, does that last one sound familiar? I think I touched on the source of that during our bar trivia blitzkrieg, as luck would have it. We don't like to be in the dark about things. We want to be in on the joke, so to speak, and we get uncomfortable being lost when everyone else understands what is going on. Also, I think there is worry that you don't deserve what you've worked hard for and earned; that, and possibly just a fear that it could all be taken away, considering some of the hard luck you've been given in your life.
The carnival rides sound like they symbolize risks in your real life that you are afraid to take. Logically, no rides would be put up in public that would be deliberately hazardous, but since I am guessing you didn't see anyone else ride them, you can't know for sure. Do you have goals and aspirations that you haven't witnessed anyone in your life attempting and achieving?
Roller coasters go up and down, making your stomach drop every time. You probably don't want a regimented life, correct? But in that chaos there feels like a lack of security. That is something to wrestle with, and perhaps wanting the best of both worlds is causing conflict.
One way to take control is through lucid dreaming. Maybe you conjur up a person to go on those rides, or better yet, you ride them and find out it wasn't as bad as you thought, or you find MacGyverish ways to defeat the dangerous aspects of those rides.
I didn't like waking up suddenly because a giant tarantula grabbed me from behind. So I closed my eyes again and imagined me pulling out a gun and shooting him to pieces. Aahhh, how therapeutic.