Friday, February 25, 2011

Dream from Ages Ago

I had this really weird dream January 9, and I wrote it all down so I could type it out here and figure out what it means, but I ran out of time, and then there was a whole other slew of weird-ass dreams to contend with, so I'm just now getting it out.

Jon and I were out in the woods on some kind of day trip. There were other people with us, but I don't remember who they were right now. I know there was a sheriff or park ranger of some kind, but that's about it. Anyway, we were out in the woods, and there was this big, evil, demonic deer.

The deer was very tall, but really skinny... Kind of like the skinny "got milk" vow. He had long skinny arms and legs too. His head was really, REALLY big though. His snout was long and sort of wideish, but it was open on top, and there were about fifty or so spikes sticking out of it. He had antlers, but I don't remember specifics. What I remember most were his eyes, which were small and white, and very evil.

I don't know what all was happening, but the basic gist of it was that he was after Jon, myself and the rest of our group. It got to a point where it was just me, Jon and the sheriff person in the woods, because everyone else had been killed. The sheriff had something to do with it... he'd unleashed this deer's power somehow.

Jon and I went to this little tipi village to find out what had happened. It turned out that a man (I think the sheriff) had played some kind of dice game with this little Indian girl, and he'd lost, so this deer was roaming around killing people. So, Jon and I decided to play against this little girl to see if we could win and stop it.

Jon rolled the dice, and lost, but I rolled against her and won first try. This old Indian woman, who I assume was her grandmother, told me mysteriously, "You've always been lucky, haven't you?" Basically from this point, the idea became that because I was so lucky, I was invincible, and thus could be fearless.

The dream sort of fast-forwarded, and I was scaring the deer into the woods, growling at him and making clawing motions at it. The deer just looked at me with hatred and vengeance, and took off running after Jon, because he couldn't kill me. I ran off after them, just in time to see Jon kneeling on the ground facing me, with a spear impaled through him from his lower back out through the middle of his chest.

I got angry because the deer had killed Jon, and I jumped up into the air with a stick of my own, sort of like a big log. It was like slow motion, and I jumped unnaturally high and came down unnaturally slow. I missed the deer, but I knew I had to bounce on a log.

I don't know if I actually killed the deer or not. The next thing I remember is coming to a cliff, and diving off the side. This 20-sided die appeared as I was falling into oblivion. Knowing that I was lucky, I took the dice and rolled a twenty. This hexagon-shaped object (which kind of reminded me of a children's toy) appeared, and I could spin it backwards as far as I wanted.

It was like a time machine, and I turned it back further and further until Jon and I were unpacking at a beach. To avoid the deer and everything else, I'd apparently just changed our plans. Then all of a sudden, it was me watching this beach scene on TV at Celia's apartment. My godson tottered down the hall, and I took out the beach DVD so he could watch cartoons.


And THAT is my crazy ass dream.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

What Does a Dream Really Mean Anyway?

I've been having a lot of bad dreams lately... Not scary like monsters, but scary like it was just too real. This morning I woke up in a panic, because I was dreaming that I was back home. I was caught in the middle of another argument, and my parents were just screaming at each other... Their dream fight was up there with the worst they've ever had. It's been a long time since I've witnessed one of these fights, but it was frightening just how much the dream really scared me. It felt very, very real.

Thursday night, Jon spent the night. I woke up forty-five minutes before my alarm in a complete panic, and jumped onto him on his side of the bed, clinging onto him like I was drowning. I felt really bad, because I really scared Jon, but I needed to know he was there, and that this was what was real.

I had dreamed that I was back home in the shopping center, and Jon and I were in the car with some people I knew when I was a kid. I was looking for my bag in the trunk and the backseat, and I guess I wasn't moving fast enough, because dream-Jon freaked out and started yelling at me and throwing things from the car and trunk. Dream-me acted predictably, and cried and walked away. One of the other people in the dream walked with me and said something about him being crazy, and how he wouldn't even party with him because he was scary-crazy when he drank. Dream-me said that Jon didn't drink, and the other guy in the dream looked at me like I was fooling myself.

Then Dream-me walked over to Dream-Jon, and he kept yelling, but we were staring to talk through it. Suddenly, this man walked up to Dream-Jon, and asked for drugs. Dream-Jon was a dealer, he just gave me this look... like he was sorry but I should have known better, and he said, "Don't act like you didn't see it." Then Dream-me was scrambling to pick up the things he'd thrown on the ground, like my purse, and sweatshirt and television remote. (the items don't make sense, but I could see them so clearly... down to tears on the sweatshirt and stuff like that)
It was about then that I woke up and freaked out. I woke up crying because it felt so real. Jon just hugged me until I calmed down, which I appreciated, but when he asked me about the dream and I explained it, he seemed mad at himself. He thinks it's his fault because he had a cigarette with his coworkers and told me about it. (He's mostly quit, but has slip-ups often)

So that's been my last few days.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

My, How Time Flies...

Got my first invitation to a 5-year high school reunion this morning... I wish I could say that I took it better. True, I didn't go off on the person. I actually haven't replied at all yet, but nonetheless, all I could think was, "Why would I want to come back and hang out with people who were mean to me in the first place?"

I always thought that when I got to this point, I would be more excited about going back. In reality, I can't believe it's already been five years. I know that I'm doing better than many of my classmates in a lot of respects, but I feel like going back is only going to make me compare what I've done and where I'm at to them, and that's not a good idea.

Most of all, I thought that after five years, I wouldn't care so much about the way people treated me in high school. On the contrary, I've found that I don't want to go back... I'm afraid to see these people again, and afraid of how they'll treat me.

You apparently don't get over someone telling you to kill yourself every morning. You don't forget people making fun of the way you laugh. You'll always remember the way people ignored you, were snarky to you, and used you.

I guess I just thought that at 22, with a degree, in graduate school and with a steady job and boyfriend, I would feel more confident in what I am and who I've become. I just feel like the second I stand in front of these people, I'm going right back to who I was then, and I'll be staring at the floor, afraid to make eye contact, and scared that they're going to be the same people they were then.