Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Dreams... (aka: where do ghosts come from?)

I am one who rarely remembers dreams...
I know I dream, husb says I talk like mad in my sleep. Occasionally I remember little wisps of a dream when I first wake up, but by my first cup of coffee, it's gone.
I've had two dreams in my life that were super vivid, and when I woke, they just did not feel like a regular dream at all... they felt like a message.
One was a visit from my deceased father, the other was a dream I had just prior to my Senior Skip Day in High School. I've told this dream to very few people.
Throughout my childhood and teen years, I always knew I would never grow old, I always had the feeling that I would die at a young age. It's weird, but it was a feeling that I had always had, and had come to accept.
My Senior Skip Day was a day trip to the Oregon coast. If you've ever seen it, it is ruggedly beautiful. Not California smooth, but full of cliffs, rocks and rugged trails.
The night before Skip Day I had this dream:
We were all at the beach, some of the other kids were being loud and obnoxious so I kind of wandered off on my own... I had slipped on a mud covered rock and when I fell, I hit my head and was knocked unconcious. The momentum of the fall sent me rolling downward into the water below and I had dround before I gained conciousness again.
Next I am standing in this long line, something like a DMV line and we are all waiting for "processing". There were people as far as the eye could see in this line. I began to get anxious and starting talking to the person ahead of me... "how much longer do you think we will be?" Some small talk followed and in passing the person mentioned that I need not be in a hurry anymore because I was dead... "no, no, no, I'm not dead, I've got lots of stuff still to do! I'm getting married after graduation, I've got a job to go to!" The person showed me a newspaper headline of my passing as well as my obit... it began to sink in, but still I felt like I had to do something to finish the things I'd started.
Eventually I was at the front of the line and I explained to someone whose face I could not see that I could not stay here, but that I needed to go back. The "person" showed me my funeral that occured days ago, my body was gone; yes I could go back, but without a body. I opted for that as at the time I figured I could 'just pick up a body somewhere'. I was instructed to dive into this pit, there was bubbling water in it, but the dive was very deep... but I figured I was already dead, so I would try it... I fell forever before hitting the water, when I surfaced I was at the point at the coast where I died. I held the thought of needing a body, and instantly I was at the hospital... I was looking through the glass at the babies, but all of the babies were protected by a force and I could not find a body there at all. I held the thought of letting my Mom know I was still OK, and I was at her home. I was so frustrated because everytime I tried to talk to her, she just looked right through me, like I wasn't even there. She was so sad and I just wanted to comfort her. My frustration at my inability to communicate grew and grew until in a fit of rage I picked up a nick-knack from a shelve and threw it (this act took much energy and more than alittle practice)... that got her attention, but still I could not convey to her that I was OK. My temper fits continued and finally she moved away because I was scaring her... just the opposite of my intent.
When I woke up I was full of rage and frustration, my heart pounded in my chest and I was soaked in perspiration.
I did not go to the coast that day with my friends, I stayed home.
I never again had the feeling that I was going to live an abreviated life. I knew that now, I would grow old.
And I know that if I had gone to the coast that day, I would not have come home.

posted by addict @ 11:23 AM |

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