It’s been advised by my therapist that I keep a dream log. She seems to think the answer to my lack of connection with the people around me is locked in my subconscious. And of course dreams are the key to the subconscious. I’ll start with last night’s dream.
Everything was dark. Its night, and I’m standing at the edge of a forest that from left to right when on as far as I could see. For some reason I knew I had to walk through it. Every tree was tall, dead, and grew so close together that you couldn’t see past them. The only depth I could see in was the broad path that went perfectly straight, into that dark place. Before I could move, three other people walked past me and started down the path. Without a reason I fallowed them. As we walked deeper, we would every now and then pass a large perfect square clearing. In each of these clearings, not one tree was out of place, they were just lined up to form impenetrable walls. In one of the clearings was a massive two story house. An unexplainable fear grew in me the moment we walked into that open space. The house was old, and looked abandoned; there was no glass in any of the windows, just dark empty space. I looked over at the people next to me, and on their faces they wore the most horrible expressions of terror I had ever seen. I looked back at the house to see a tall white clad figure standing in the window. It raised its hand and pointed at us, and one by one my companions dropped to the ground dead. My unnamed fear now had a shape, I remember trying to look away, trying to run, but my body would not respond. I just stood there, gripped by terror, and praying to get away. Violently I woke up just before my turn to fall to the ground.
As I’d expected Doc isn’t of much help. She went on for half an hour about how it’s likely some deep suppressed fear of loss, or being helpless, or even fear of being abandoned. She spent the next half hour telling me that if I open myself to the suddelties of my emotions the dreams will become clearer. I’m willing to try anything at this point, even if its bullshit.
I’m in my bed, in my room, but something is wrong. Everything is tinted red, and there are mirrors covering every wall. The mirrors were dark, almost hazy, preventing me from seeing my reflection. Also there is a woman sitting in a chair next to my bed. She looked thin, frail, like she was on the edge of death. We both stared at each other for what felt like hours before she said in a low voice, just more than a whisper. “Don’t look at the walls; the dead don’t like to be stared at.” Then she took out a knife and lunged at me. I couldn’t believe so fragile looking a creature could be so strong. A demonic fire burned in her eyes as she griped the knife with both hands and pushed the blade towards my chest. I was unable to stop her, only able to watch the blade sink into me. I felt worm blood, and cold air, as everything darkened. I lurched awake in my room. Grabbing my chest to feel for the hole where the knife had been, there was nothing. In the daylight all I could see was the white sheets of my bed soaked red with blood.
I didn’t tell Doc about the blood…I couldn’t make myself believe it really had happened. I just threw away the sheets, and am now sleeping on the bare mattress.
The Tree Nightmare~
I was in a garden. It looked like it hadn’t been attended to in years, weeds were over grown, thick vines covered the garden walls, and the bushes grew in many directions. But what caught my attention most was the large tree in the center of the garden. The moment I saw it I felt strangely drawn to it, I didn’t want to look at anything else. I started walking over to the tree, but walking was to slow. Before I knew it I was running, running as hard as I could. When I reached the tree, I suddenly felt a powerful urge to climb it. I reached; grabbing the first branch I saw and pulled myself up. At first the climb was hard; sometimes I had to jump just to reach the next branch. But I was compelled to reach the top. As I went it began to get easier, and my pace quickened. I was nearly there, already hundreds of feet up. Finally I reached the top, but where the tip of the tree should have been was a small box. Without a moment’s pause I grabbed the box and threw it open. Inside was a dirty mirror, which reflected a face to misshapen to be mine. I tried to wipe the mirror off with my hand but the moment I touched it, it shattered, cutting my hand in several places. I threw the box a way, and in the effort lost my balance. I started to fall, reaching desperately for one of the other branches, but every one of them moved out of my reach. I fell, all the way to the hard ground below. When I woke up my hand was covered in deep cuts.
I don’t know how, but what’s happening in my dreams is starting to happen in real life…Things I’ve seen while asleep I’m starting to see while awake… Today…in broad daylight…something happened.
Day time nightmare~
I was sitting in class, not really hearing anything that was being said. But as I was sitting there I slowly became aware that I couldn’t hear anything. Even when I strained to, I heard nothing at all. I just sat there staring straight ahead, focusing to hear some sound. After sometime I did. It was faint, as if far away, I was sure it wasn’t in the same room. The longer I focused it seemed to get louder. But the louder it got the worse I felt; it was a thumping, and it was getting louder. I shortly realized it was a heartbeat, and it wasn’t just getting louder, it was getting closer. It was just outside the door, and as soon as I realized this, I also noticed everyone in the room had stopped moving. They just lay down, not sleeping, not breathing, not living, they were all dead. I jumped up without making a sound; my chair fell to the floor silently. I spun around searching for some sign that I was still alive myself. There was nothing but that pounding heart beat, drumming angrily outside the door. I found myself helplessly walking towards it. When I reached the door, I looked through the glass to see the source of the pounding. The very same white clad figure I’d seen before. It was massive nearly reaching the ceiling, as it silently took a step forward. It turned to the door, bent down and pushed it open. All I could do was stand there, frozen by the same terror I’d fell before. It slowly drew closer; I could feel it was looking right at me. Where its face should be was nothing, a hollow void, under a white hood. Blood began drip from where the mouth should have been, as it pointed a bonny dead finger at me. It moved closer and closer, the driving pounding heat beat became so loud I felt my ears burst. I knew I was bleeding, I could feel the blood running down my neck. The last thing I remember was the hand less than an inch from my face. I woke up in a hospital, the doctors told me they couldn’t explain what had happened. All anyone knows is that I was suddenly standing by the door comatose, with blood running out of my ears.
I’ve stopped going to see doc. She has no explanations. I’ve been thinking, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen that white grim reaper…After my father died when I was nine, I used to have dreams of him coming to our old house in the night to take my father away. Also I know there is some meaning behind the mirrors, and why I can never see myself in them.
I think I’m supposed to be dead. Or maybe I’m already dead, and my mind won’t accept it. I’ve been researching dreams, here’s what I’ve found.
Dream reflections are far more accurate and honest than reflections in waking life. Images in dream mirrors reflect not only the truth of our waking lives, but the truth of the "dark shades" not only of what we were, but the dark shadows of what currently is in our unconscious. In fact, mirroring is one of the primary functions of dreams. They reflect everything, every solitary aspect of who we are: the shadows, the emotions, what we feel, what we think, what we desire, what we see, as well as that to which we are blind. If a mirror is veiled, it is the mind protecting itself from an unwelcome reality.
Funeral nightmare~ (the last dream)
Last night I had the worst dream I’ve ever had…I was in and old church, standing in the back. At the other end was an open casket, with people standing by it looking in. I started walking down towards the group, passing several people with blank expressions. Before I got half way there, I saw my sister. Sitting next to her was my mother and two brothers. I asked her what was going on, and she told me “he died…died in his sleep”
I asked “who died?”
And she looked at me and said “you don’t want to know.” At this point my brothers were looking at me, but my mother just stared straight ahead at the casket.
“Who died?” I repeated
“You don’t want to know” my older brother said
I turned and started to walk to the casket, when suddenly my mother shouted “don’t let him go! Don’t let him look!”
My brothers and sister jumped up and grabbed me, as I kept shouting “why!? Who’s in the casket? Who died?”
My mother looked at me…with a hollow, lifeless look in her eyes and said “you did. You can’t see yourself dead”
I woke crying
4/15/02 last entry
For the past three days I’ve had the same dream…for some reason I’m drawn to that body in that box. I know it’s me, but is it the dream me or the real me? And the question that’s been on my mind every minute of these past days is if it’s the real me in the coffin, and I see myself dead, what will happen?