I’ve had three recent nightmares that are incredibly vivid. One I’m not going to go into detail on — all I’ll say is it involves Pennywise the clown. *shudder*
The other two I want to talk about (and I pretty much never share or write down my dreams).
I’ve had nightmares for a long time — probably since I was seven or eight, which would make it, oh, almost sixteen or seventeen years. Some nights I don’t remember my dreams but wake up feeling horrible, and just know it was a bad one. Sometimes I’ll only remember one detail — like who it was about. Sometimes — like the past week — I’ll remember everything in vivid detail.
Dream the First
In the first dream, I was in a fantasy like setting — there was a kingdom, or somesuch, ruled by a monarch. I can’t remember if the monarch was a king or queen. Anyway, I was a nine-year-old girl who was a very powerful magic user. This was unheard of, and I was feared by those who knew. This fear necessitated my going on a journey somewhere, to accomplish something — that part I don’t remember. So an older man — Aragorn archetype — volunteered to be my escort on the long and dangerous journey. I was given a small dagger, but generally it was assumed I would be protected by this guy. We load up our horses (a smaller one for me, but with most of the necessities of the trip — cooking pans, bedroll, extra clothing, probably some sort of quest item even if I can’t remember what it was — I play too many RPGs) and set out on our journey up the side of the mountain.
By nightfall we reach a camping place. I’m cold and scared. I think I’m an orphan. This older, uncle-type guy sets up the campfire et al for me, and before I can even warm up he packs up his horse and starts to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve had a change of heart. Sorry, sweetie, but you’re on your own,” he says, and mounts his horse and rides off into the darkness.
Shivering, I sit next to the fire and try to stay warm. Eventually I drift off into sleep.
When I wake, the fire is down to embers and I can hear voices, just around the bend in the path. I grab my knife and try to remember some sort of defensive magic.
Soon a group of bandits/bad guys/generic villains with Cockney accents, led by my Theatre History teacher (he uses a Cockney accent in class sometimes; my subconscious is a crack head, etc) show up with a really bright lantern. The leader smiles evilly, and they all make some jests about what a price I’ll fetch (yay human trafficking!).
A change comes over me. I go from scared little girl to bloodthirsty, ravening hellbeast. I leap forward and attack them. Before they can do anything I’ve snapped one man’s neck (remember, nine year old girl — WTF) and cut through another’s jugular. Blood spurts forth and covers me and my dress; I bare my teeth savagely and growl at the remaining two. The leader runs off in fear as I attack the other one, who did the classic dumb henchman move of “stand in wonder as she conjures a fireball and incinerates you”.
I use the fallen’s blood to put war paint on my face, and go and calmly pack up my things onto my horse (who is totally unfazed), put on my cloak, and continue on my journey.
Symbols: the number nine (it was very clear in the dream that I was nine years old; no older, no younger); being abandoned; being attacked; anger; fire; blood; dagger; quest.
What does it mean: I’m angry about always being abandoned or hurt by the men around me and soon I’ll snap and kill them all. Also I won’t tolerate any obstacles on my journey to increase my power, magic and otherwise.
Just thoughts, anyway.
Dream the Second
I think this dream has happened more than once. I certainly got that feeling during and after the dream. This is particularly significant because I was able to practice lucid dreaming, which I have never been able to do before — meaning I was able to change the course of events in the dream.
In the dream I’m a woman whose name is Susan, or some variation thereof. My parents are the same as my real world parents, but I’m different: I’m slender instead of zaftig, and fairly trusting of people.
I (Susan-me) have run away from home, as much as one can at age 25 (that’s how old I was in the dream). I’m living with an older couple, whose house is above a bookshop where I work and frequent my time. I haven’t talked to my parents or any of my old friends in a while.
I start seeing someone. I can’t remember his name, but he’s witty and charming and I get taken in with him. He’s hiding something, though, which is mainly that he’s stone cold nuts and intent on destroying me. I figure out how dangerous he is at some point, and I can’t escape him. I’m terrified, but I don’t tell anyone what’s going on — I just try to hide. He ends up getting to my parents and feeding them lies, so I can’t trust anyone anymore. And he kills the older couple I live with.
That’s the original version of the dream. When I dreamt it last, I changed it. I thought “No, he’s going to get to dad so I have to call dad first.” I call dad and tell him what’s going on, and the older couple doesn’t die, and I’m saved.
Symbols: father figure; psychopath boyfriend; community and trust.
What does it mean: I think it’s a message about relying on others. I’ve long been poisoned with the idea of being an individual, pulling myself up by my bootstraps, never asking for help because that makes me weak, when the truth is that people need each other, and I need to go for help when I need it — not after everything I love has been destroyed.
Of course there are also overlying themes of not trusting men, of wanting to trust my dad, maybe some subconscious desire to start worshiping a god along with the Ladies I follow. But that’s not something I want to get into right now.