Writing Vomit: Week 2: Dream Vomit

About a week ago I had this extreme dream where I dreamed I was dreaming and I couldn't wake up. But I might have been dreaming that I dreamed I was dreaming that I was dreaming and I couldn't wake up. So part of the dream had me partially waking up to find that I'm in a hospital, intubated, and I can't explain what happened to me.

Before that revelation, I was overseeing a village where (maybe?) I was the head of the village who had built a large "castle" on a hill, and had 4 families living in cottages below. All was well for a while until the "castle" family wanted to use cedar to make their castle prettier. In the dream the other families resented having to use wood from the former castle to improve their homes. The castle was built with cedar and huge windows. In my dream it was a paradise, yet many of the peoples populating the area were unhappy.

I also had a dream sequence where I sort of knew I was dying. It included seeing a bulletin board with different articles posted, but also photos that I recognized of my biological kids and some of my kids from school. I noticed a comic strip highlighted with elephants (I am currently reading a book that elephants play a major part in) that perhaps I had in my "life" published. I had the sense that the bulletin board was showing the dying me what I would miss if I died then.

The part where I was near death in my dream was really unpleasant. I remember calling out in my dream for my husband to wake me up. I wonder if I called out anything in real life.

If dreams are our subconscious way of dealing with issues in our lives, I wonder what this is telling me. Am I close to death or does it mean something else?

Edit: I am thinking the focus on death is the death of our country. I try not to write about politics online because I hate confrontation and I hate losing friends and family over stuff we really have little control over. My one vote did little. Our country is broken. Trump makes me sick to my stomach. He has no respect for anyone and I can't figure out why people I know and some that I love support him. If you love someone with a disability, or someone who has survived an assault, or someone who has arrived in the USA from another country...if you believe appointees should know basic knowledge of the area they are nominated to fulfill, please continue to protest.

I feel like I need 3 times the anxiety meds.

A Little Magic in the Ordinary

It looks like a pair of glass stones to most people, but these particular stones contain magic. D received them from a wood fairy and a mermaid. A small amount of sugar glitter and the stones become even more magical. Such a small thing, but they made my little girl so happy.

Flying in Dreams

I had a dream yesterday morning. It was one of those light sleep dreams that occur when you fall back asleep after you hit the snooze button. These are 10-minute stretches of dreaming which are usually the only dreams I ever remember.

This dream was vivid. Colors, even the sensation of movement, stayed with me long after I woke for the final time. I don't recall how the dream began, but I was floating or flying in our bedroom. It was exactly how I would imagine a person having a near-death experience would feel and I recall even having that thought while I was dreaming. I flew around the room a bit then decided to try to fly through the patio door. I was successful flying through the glass and angled down to look into our dining room window. It was brightly lit and I looked in and saw my kids playing, but they were younger than they are now.

I ventured higher in the air and saw the city, lit up at night. I remember wanting to visit certain people. Some I was successful in visiting, others I couldn't get my body to steer toward.

The alarm pierced my dream. I fumbled to hit the snooze button and settled back into the pillow.

I was in a doctor's office or scientist's lab. They wanted to see if I could really float and fly. Within seconds I was airborne again. Flying this time in New York, flying over oceans, peninsulas. There were woodsy areas. There was a house, clearly under construction, wrapped in pink. It stood at the point on an island. Construction workers moved around it, busily undistracted by my presence.

I could feel the wind in my hair. My clothes pushed against my skin. Small areas of my clothes flapped behind me.

Suddenly I knew that I needed to land. I landed and found my husband in the trees.

The alarm blared again.