I’m still feeling somewhat sick from the dream I had last night. I remember waking up many times during the night to get away from it, but every time I went back to sleep, it was hiding there, waiting for me silently.
The boy and I are in a small European-style apartment, and I’m hurriedly stuffing clothing in a backpack. Everything out the window is grey and dreary. The apartment is old, lined with water damage and cracking walls. Every second I think about what I’m doing, I want to just stop and bawl. Alas, my task is too important to stop, and I know that.
Everything I’m putting in the backpack gets taken out again, by me. I have to decide what possessions I can take with me. Of everything in my life, I can only choose the few that may fit into the backpack, and that greatly upsets me. I finally settle on 2 books, a board game, and a music box.
We leave the apartment, and I realize I have no shoes on. There is no one about, and there are large puddles on the cobbled street. My mother is waiting for me in her car. The boy can’t ride with us in the car because we aren’t married. He has to walk. As we drive off in the car, I realize that not only do I not have shoes on, but I’m missing my coat; I am only wearing a thin skirt and blouse. I beg my mother to go back to the apartment to get these things for me, these things of protection; she says there’s no time. I knew I should have worn many layers, so I could have left with as much clothing as possible.
I understand now that we’re going into hiding; that living as we were is no longer safe for us. I start to get very frightened. I don’t like being this scared, so I press my thumbs to my eyes. This helps make the pain relocate, just enough so I can stand it.
I rarely have dreams like this. Normally my dreams have to do with sex or running away from a bully. Usually I’m able to fly. The most disturbing part of this dream is the complete feeling of utter helplessness. The knowledge that we were being persecuted for what we were was absolutely incredible. I knew that my mother wasn’t being forced into hiding – she was safe. We were going into hiding at her house. I woke up wanting to puke. I think it may be one of the most terrifying dreams I’ve ever had; more so than even getting chased by something monstrous: a huge poo. The enemy in this dream was silent, invisible. That’s the crazy in me. Holocaust guilt?
Oof, dreams that don't leave you alone. I have dreams that helicopters with heat-sensing devices are chasing me in an Orwellian fashion, not because of who my ancestors are, but because of my radical politics.
Mainly I just dream about work. which is almost worse.
Posted by: Auntie Sarah at January 29, 2004 10:20 AM