(no subject)
I had a dream, the other day. It was really vivid.
I was in a desert, again. But this time I sat on a rock and I was fiddling with something on my leg. I looked down and realized a piece of glass was sticking out of me. I was bleeding from the point and there was only a small bit so I started to work it out.
It didn't hurt that much when I started but it became excruciating after a bit. I realized that the small point was just the tip of the ice-berg and it was part of a larger thing. I worked at it for a while in spite of the pain, apparently without regard to my own skin and muscle. As I worked it I could feel the thing scraping against my bone and rending my flesh. The pain I felt in the dream was horrendous. It was like I was tearing out my own parts. The feeling of tearing and pulling was particularly clear. Every tug pulled at something deep inside.
When I finally pulled it out it was a barb. It was three inches long with points facing away from the head of it. It was like a particularly nasty glass arrowhead. I looked at the wound from which I extracted it and it had healed over. I noticed that the glass didn't have much blood on it at all and that what little was left had formed a drop at the tip of the barb. It fell perfectly into the sand leaving the barb clean and brilliant. It was beautiful. I held it up in the sunlight and let the colors wash over me.
I checked myself and noticed that there were numerous glass barbs all in my arms and legs. I dropped the first one into the sand and began to extract them all. It was a wonder I didn't wake up as painful as it felt in the dream. But you know how sharp things like glass are? There is relatively little pain while the cutting happens. The pain is after it happens. I can attest to this. My penchant as a child for playing with sharp things gave me some experience in the matter. I am surprised I am not dead.
The dream seemed to take forever through this process. Each barb was as painful as the last with the same effect of healing over as soon as I had the thing out. When I was done I was breathing heavily and my clothing was in tatters. I was surrounded by blood crusting on the rock, in the sand, and on my clothes. Oddly enough there was none on my skin. I had a fair pile of glass barbs in the sand in front of me. I held the last one and noticed that it had a hole in the base of it. I took a thread from my tattered clothes and put it through the hole. I tied the ends and put the barb on as a necklace.
I laid down on the rock and went to sleep in the fading sun of evening.
If that dream had been any more realistic or vivid I would have considered it a traumatic event.
I was in a desert, again. But this time I sat on a rock and I was fiddling with something on my leg. I looked down and realized a piece of glass was sticking out of me. I was bleeding from the point and there was only a small bit so I started to work it out.
It didn't hurt that much when I started but it became excruciating after a bit. I realized that the small point was just the tip of the ice-berg and it was part of a larger thing. I worked at it for a while in spite of the pain, apparently without regard to my own skin and muscle. As I worked it I could feel the thing scraping against my bone and rending my flesh. The pain I felt in the dream was horrendous. It was like I was tearing out my own parts. The feeling of tearing and pulling was particularly clear. Every tug pulled at something deep inside.
When I finally pulled it out it was a barb. It was three inches long with points facing away from the head of it. It was like a particularly nasty glass arrowhead. I looked at the wound from which I extracted it and it had healed over. I noticed that the glass didn't have much blood on it at all and that what little was left had formed a drop at the tip of the barb. It fell perfectly into the sand leaving the barb clean and brilliant. It was beautiful. I held it up in the sunlight and let the colors wash over me.
I checked myself and noticed that there were numerous glass barbs all in my arms and legs. I dropped the first one into the sand and began to extract them all. It was a wonder I didn't wake up as painful as it felt in the dream. But you know how sharp things like glass are? There is relatively little pain while the cutting happens. The pain is after it happens. I can attest to this. My penchant as a child for playing with sharp things gave me some experience in the matter. I am surprised I am not dead.
The dream seemed to take forever through this process. Each barb was as painful as the last with the same effect of healing over as soon as I had the thing out. When I was done I was breathing heavily and my clothing was in tatters. I was surrounded by blood crusting on the rock, in the sand, and on my clothes. Oddly enough there was none on my skin. I had a fair pile of glass barbs in the sand in front of me. I held the last one and noticed that it had a hole in the base of it. I took a thread from my tattered clothes and put it through the hole. I tied the ends and put the barb on as a necklace.
I laid down on the rock and went to sleep in the fading sun of evening.
If that dream had been any more realistic or vivid I would have considered it a traumatic event.