Monday, September 1, 2008
As a child I often walked in my sleep. I would stumble around my bedroom, dreaming I was somewhere else, crashing into furniture and walls until one of my parents woke and came in to rescue me.
Ten years ago the dreams that troubled me were ones in which I would get lost. I could be driving or walking and suddenly take a turn that would take me into unknown territory. I could go round and round in circles, aware that I should know these streets. I might even enter an office building and not be able to find my way out. My solution of last resort, and my favorite if I could manage it, would be to levitate myself above the rooftops and fly away. I loved that sensation and usually headed out toward the coast, regardless of my point of origin.
Of late, however, I am once again actively participating in my dreams.
I don't know if perhaps life's circumstances have made me feel more protective, the defender of the family. Since my Honey's stroke, we have, of necessity, redefined our relationship and our life.
Over the past couple of years my dreams find me in a dangerous situation where I must engage in physical combat. I usually wake myself up when I cry out or shout. My poor husband has been the recipient of more than a few kicks, backhands and punches. If I don't wake, he will gently rub my arm and say, "it's okay, it's okay." We laugh about my little episode and go back to sleep.
There was one occasion,however, that did disturb me. My granddaughter K was curled up next to me when I let loose with a right hook that connected with her head. She didn't even wake up so perhaps it wasn't the mighty blow that I thought it was, but it did wake me and I felt just terrible.
Then last week I was dreaming that a strange man grabbed my right cheek and was pinching and twisting it with his fingers! I know it sounds odd and there is no explaining it but dreams don't have to make sense. Anyway, the pinching really hurt and I fought back only to wake myself up. I was on my left side, my left arm crossed over my chest with my fingernails dug into my right cheek. Lordy, I broke the skin and I still have the marks on my cheek.
This dreaming is getting dangerous! I need some dream intervention. I have met the enemy and it is ME!