Dreams and Nightmares

January 9, 2011

Whenever I have a really cool dream, I try to recall it as I’m in the process of getting out of bed; I play it over and over again in my head in an attempt to cement it into my memory, for future analysis. This usually only works if the dream is unique, something I’ve never envisioned before.

Of course, even if I remember it for an hour after waking up, my mind will eventually wander and the dream will be lost forever, as I’m just realizing happened this morning, since I can’t remember anything about my awesome dream last night.

The only dreams that have stuck with me through the years are two nightmares I had as a kid. For some reason these were incredibly terrifying, and I guess that’s why I can still remember them vividly. Here they are: (don’t judge)

1) I was at the top of the staircase in my house, outside my bathroom door. As I looked across the hallway I saw a skeleton looking at me. Somehow I knew that this skeleton was thinking about killing me, as any reasonable skeleton would. There was no one else around, although I think my family might have been downstairs, oblivious to my plight. I couldn’t call out to my family or I’d provoke the skeleton to come towards me and attack, so I panicked and did the only thing I could think of to do: I said “You’re my best friend.” I guess I figured that if I could fool him into thinking I was his friend he wouldn’t kill me. I think it worked, because I remember walking down my stairs calmly, pretending that nothing was wrong, as the skeleton continued to stare at me. Once I made it downstairs, everything was fine.

2) I was once again at the top of the staircase in my house, though this time I was on the opposite side of the hallway (coincidentally where the skeleton had been standing in the other dream). I was facing my bedroom door which was open, when I started to hear the ticking of a clock. The ticking continued, and when I looked down the hallway I saw either my brother or my dad (I don’t remember which) walking in my direction, in slow motion. The ticking grew louder; it was beginning to drown out all other noise. At the same time my brother/dad started slowing down even more. The ticking became almost unbearable, and my brother/dad had slowed to a near standstill when all of a sudden worm-like bugs started crawling everywhere. They weren’t hurting me, but they were covering almost every surface of my house and the ticking of the clock was driving me insane. I couldn’t see my brother/dad anymore, I assumed he was dead. I don’t know how this dream ended, because at that point I probably woke up crying and ended up sleeping in my parents room.

Both of those nightmares were terrifying, but in odd ways. I don’t really know why these two were the most scarring, or why both of them took place in my upstairs hallway, but I know that after that second dream happened I always hated hearing the ticking of clocks. I’m only now getting over it.

On a somewhat lighter note, I’ve been having one recurring dream a lot recently that I thought I’d share. I don’t read into dreams that much, but if I have any readers who are fans of Sigmund Freud feel free to voice your opinion on what this could mean:

1] I’m travelling for miles across mountain ranges and valleys, in the dead of winter, in an effort to rescue someone, or retrieve some sort of object. My motivation is never too important; what matters is that this dream is always a struggle. There’s an air of despair in the snowy woods, and although my will to carry on is strong, my strength slowly fades. I always encounter a river in this dream, roughly 100 ft wide, which is too cold to swim across because of the frigid temperatures. There’s an old stone bridge that crosses the river, but it’s broken and knocked down in the middle so I can’t cross that way. I don’t remember how I usually get across; I suppose that sometimes I hop across rocks, or I find a way around it further down the river. Sometimes I’m not able to cross it at all. There’s usually a small companion with me during this dream, either a dog or a child. The companion doesn’t help me, rather it’s my duty to protect it, which becomes increasingly difficult as I’m brainstorming how to cross the river. This dream normally ends on a sad note, either with me not being able to cross the river, or with me crossing it but never reaching my goal, or with me losing track of my companion.



One Response to “Dreams and Nightmares”

  1. Arlee Bird said

    It would be cool to turn these accounts into a sort of game-like video experiences. I was picturing everything as you were describing it.

    Tossing It Out

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