In my old vox blog, I had a series of posts titled “I have a dream”, in which I described the dreams I dreamt, for some kind Freudian soul to interpret and put me out of my misery. This was many years ago. Perhaps I must resume in this one. My dreams are getting wackier and wackier these days. I am pretty sure they are the hormones surging around my perimenopausal being, and truth be told, I would rather have wacky dreams and wake up with “whew ! only a dream” rather than go on the roller coaster in wakeful times.
Most people I know never remember their dreams. On the rare occasion that my better-half remembers his, he is surprised that he even dreamt. I, on the other hand, remember my dreams vividly for a few hours after I wake up. My dreams are never neutral. They are sometimes pleasant, and such dreams are usually a bit on the randy side – last night I dreamt that I was out slow dancing with my better-half (I have never danced with anyone in real life, having been endowed with multiple left feet and zero elegance), which led to ahem, other things. Mostly, the dreams are panic inducing. For example, this afternoon’s siesta induced by the rare rice meal saw me attending a Hindi class, and not knowing which classroom to go to and panicking.
A few years back, I would repeatedly dream of a large empty building and me getting lost in it. A gentleman who was a regular reader of my blog and an email friend, interpreted it for me that the building was me and I was searching for myself. It made sense at that time because I was a bit on the loose end with no clue of who I was and what I was doing. I don’t get that particular dream anymore – have I found myself then? I think I just don’t care anymore about who I am and what I am here for. Which is a good thing.
My repeated dreams (since I was ye little) has been not being prepared for exams. This is interesting because I have very rarely been unprepared for an exam – I am a bit of a nerdy prick that way. I am sure there are other deep seated fears behind this particular dream – or I am just bat crap crazy. I’ll go with the latter.
Do you remember your dreams?