Dying All Over Again

In the first dream I had one night, I was in my house, talking to my landlady down stairs when I realized the house was on fire. I ran upstairs to get my cat, and when I finally found her, I realized that I couldn’t get back downstairs again. Just as I was catching on fire, I woke up.

I got up and walked around for awhile because I was so terrified about the dream I just had; I wanted to stay awake so I wouldn’t possibly fall into the same dream again.

After I laid back down, I started to dream again. This time I was in an abortion clinic (I have NO IDEA why that would be the case) and I was watching a woman get an abortion. I couldn’t see anything, however. Thankfully. Then a man burst into the room carrying a pistol. He was wearing underwear, and nothing else. Tighty-whities, not boxers. He started to wave the pistol in the air, and everyone ran, including me. Somehow everyone else got ahead of me – you know how you try to run in your dreams but you feel like your running through Jell-o? And the guy with the gun started to catch up. And for some reason I focused on his huge pot-belly that was bouncing up and down as he ran after me – gross, but vivid and strangely hypnotic.

I realized I wasn’t going to get away, so I tried to crouch behind a car, but he ran around it, raised the pistol at me and fired….

… and I woke up again.

This makes a totally of 4 dreams that I’ve had about dying…

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The Angel of Death Dream

A dream I had where I was so scared that I was afraid to get out of bed to go to go to the bathroom, at 29 years old.

It started at an archeological dig, where we uncovered a huge skeleton of bird/reptile-like creature, about twice as large as a human. It looked like a human, with a reptile head and tail, and wings. We brought it intact to a laboratory nearby, to study it. There were about twenty or so people gathered around it on a table, when it suddenly came alive, spread it’s wings and rose up in the air.

[This much of the dream I can guess came from a Simpsons episode, although my dream wasn’t animated.]
There was a collective gasp around the room, and as everyone exhaled, it began devouring the people. I ran out the door with several others and down the hallway, as it followed, still eating people.

The dream then turned into one of my standard maze dreams, in which I turned down different hallways and got lost while being chased. Someone running with me believed that it couldn’t figure out where we were if we were shielded by metal or porcelain, so we ran from one tiled bathroom with metal stalls to another, and that seemed to work. But it was still not too far behind us, devouring people it ran across, and there was plenty of blood and guts in the dream.

Deus Ex Machina

We realized though, that we had to get out of the building, so we found a way outdoors. This was bad, though, because suddenly we were on a beach, without any cover, and the monster could see us. And, of course, its impossible to run in the sand. But the monster kicked up huge swirling sand storms as it moved, so we were able to tell where it was and hide in one building or another. Once we were caught without a building to hide in and had to climb in a cement culvert in the sand, and the monster overlooked us.

We found a building then, finally, that was made of cement, metal, and porcelain, and ducked in; we were safe. I was watching out the window as the two monsters shot up through the sky in a magnificent, beautiful, terrible display of lights.

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Quicksand Dream

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The first of two recent dreams about death…

In the dream, I went downstairs to the basement, which looking back now, I think was the basement on South East Fourth Street from my childhood.

Growing in the center of the floor was a plant; a weed, I thought, like a tiny tree. I went over to it to pull it up, I guess because I didn’t think it should be growing there. It seems kind of absurd; a weed growing in the basement with no sunlight. It had a reddish cast to the stalk, kind of like a rhubarb plant, but the stalk was round, rather than square like that plant. It had spiky leaves, and grew upward.

I went over to it and pulled on it, and it broke free of the ground pretty freely, and I was surprised to see that it was growing in sand rather than soil.

Then the ground started to shift beneath me, and I lost my footing. The sand started to fall into the hole I had just created, and I slid down with it. the sand quickly covered me, and I continued my downward slide.

My mind was racing, and I remember I thought, “if I can just stop here, I’ll be able to swim my way out to the surface.” But the sand swirled around me, and I kept falling farther. It dawned on me that I’d fallen perhaps fifty feet, and that I would never be able to get out alive.

And then I woke up, of course, have frightened myself half to death. And I am still wondering at the inner mechanics of my brain, and how I had constructed such a strange scenario with which to frighten myself. Because that dream still haunts me whenever I feel like I’m on unsure footing, both literally and emotionally.

I thought about it this summer when we all went to lake Michigan and laid out on the beach at Warren Dunes. It had been years since I’d been on a beach, and the sand had a way of sucking in around my feet that made my heart jump.
And we were walking across the rocks at The Falls, right here in Broadripple, where every step I took was on an unsteady rock that teetered beneath me, and paralyzed me to the spot, which made my friends laugh.

And I suddenly thought of it tonight, when the fears about my financial state and whether I have achieved what I should by the age that I am overwhelmed me when I laid down to sleep.

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