Pregnancy Dreams
I wanted to write down this dream before I forgot. I had it last night.
T
he dream somewhat begins with me at a party. I believe it’s a party after my graduation and all of my classmates are there. I leave to go to the bathroom and wash my hands. There’s a lot of commotion outside, but I ignore it.
Suddenly, my friend Amy (whom I haven’t seen in years) comes into the bathroom and sits down. She has a GoPro Camera on her head and she is watching a live feed from somewhere else. While I was in the bathroom, apparently all of my classmates went to UF’s stadium for a special event. I looked at the monitor and saw a Muslim-dressed man speaking to Amy (it was a two-way feed). He had a gun, and there were several other men dressed just like him. I somehow connected that these men were at the stadium with my classmates and many other people.
These men then began shooting everyone. I could see the mass hysteria ensuing while I watched the monitor, horrified. People were running….blood was everywhere. All I could say was, “I was suppose to be there…..”
I don’t remember what happens at this point, but I find myself being driven to the scene of the crime to gaze upon the aftermath. I saw a man crushing to death one of the terrorists with a huge cylindrical concrete structure. It was extremely gory, and I thought to myself, “Oh my god, this is what blood and death looks like in real life.”
I keep going on, seeing survivors in cages and terrorists in other cages. The faces of the survivors are people I recognize from high school. At this point, I have no idea how many people are dead. I see my parents arguing with some people at a counter. I assumed they were asking if I was among the dead. I put my hand on their shoulders, and they’re relieved to see me still alive.
I soon find myself wandering about Gainesville. Because of the terrorist attack, the entire city is in a state of unrest. People are rioting and looting, and order is no where to be found. I find Denver and we wander the city together. Gangs of people are looking to pick a fight. Denver heads off some of the men, but these two women want to club me to death. I try to plea with them, telling them they didn’t need to turn to violence. They are striking me, but I shrug off the blows. I try to get away from them, but they are relentless. I somehow find a bottle of hot sauce and throw the contents in their eyes. They submit and admit defeat. I feel hardened by what’s happened because I attacked them with such malice.
I wake up and feel scared, horrified and sad. I eventually go back to sleep and have another dream, another just as stressful, but no where as near horrifying or full of death. A few nights ago, Denver and I both had zombie dreams. I find it amusing since we’ve been watching Walking Dead, but we hadn’t watched an episode in weeks.
A lot of my dreams lately have me waking up feeling stressed. It’s almost to the point I don’t want to sleep much anymore. I know this is a result of the pregnancy, but gosh, why can’t I have some nice dreams for a while?
T
he dream somewhat begins with me at a party. I believe it’s a party after my graduation and all of my classmates are there. I leave to go to the bathroom and wash my hands. There’s a lot of commotion outside, but I ignore it.
Suddenly, my friend Amy (whom I haven’t seen in years) comes into the bathroom and sits down. She has a GoPro Camera on her head and she is watching a live feed from somewhere else. While I was in the bathroom, apparently all of my classmates went to UF’s stadium for a special event. I looked at the monitor and saw a Muslim-dressed man speaking to Amy (it was a two-way feed). He had a gun, and there were several other men dressed just like him. I somehow connected that these men were at the stadium with my classmates and many other people.
These men then began shooting everyone. I could see the mass hysteria ensuing while I watched the monitor, horrified. People were running….blood was everywhere. All I could say was, “I was suppose to be there…..”
I don’t remember what happens at this point, but I find myself being driven to the scene of the crime to gaze upon the aftermath. I saw a man crushing to death one of the terrorists with a huge cylindrical concrete structure. It was extremely gory, and I thought to myself, “Oh my god, this is what blood and death looks like in real life.”
I keep going on, seeing survivors in cages and terrorists in other cages. The faces of the survivors are people I recognize from high school. At this point, I have no idea how many people are dead. I see my parents arguing with some people at a counter. I assumed they were asking if I was among the dead. I put my hand on their shoulders, and they’re relieved to see me still alive.
I soon find myself wandering about Gainesville. Because of the terrorist attack, the entire city is in a state of unrest. People are rioting and looting, and order is no where to be found. I find Denver and we wander the city together. Gangs of people are looking to pick a fight. Denver heads off some of the men, but these two women want to club me to death. I try to plea with them, telling them they didn’t need to turn to violence. They are striking me, but I shrug off the blows. I try to get away from them, but they are relentless. I somehow find a bottle of hot sauce and throw the contents in their eyes. They submit and admit defeat. I feel hardened by what’s happened because I attacked them with such malice.
I wake up and feel scared, horrified and sad. I eventually go back to sleep and have another dream, another just as stressful, but no where as near horrifying or full of death. A few nights ago, Denver and I both had zombie dreams. I find it amusing since we’ve been watching Walking Dead, but we hadn’t watched an episode in weeks.
A lot of my dreams lately have me waking up feeling stressed. It’s almost to the point I don’t want to sleep much anymore. I know this is a result of the pregnancy, but gosh, why can’t I have some nice dreams for a while?