Poor Elmo

Happy new year dreamers!

I hope you all had an excellent Christmas and new year.

Unfortunately, I didn’t do a lot of dreaming over the festive season apart from three dreams in one night that I can’t remember but do know that Daniel Craig was in each one and he was definitely shirtless in one of them (the mother in law put on Quantum of Solace one evening).

I was however reminded of one dream I used to get when I was a child when I saw that Labyrinth was being shown repeatedly.

In the dream I would be surrounded by those red creature Muppet things that annoy the main character, you know the ones that take off their heads? They would be yelling and saying things and throwing their heads about. Then I’d ‘wake up’. I’d be in my bed trying to sleep when the red things would appear from under the bed and start throwing their heads about really close to me and it was just horrible. But then one of them would turn into Elmo from Sesame Street and one of the other creatures would pull his head off and throw it around the room and Elmo would scream, “poor Elmo! Elmo needs his head!”

I’d actually wake up then, sweating and terrified. I wouldn’t watch Labyrinth again for a good few years.

Poor Elmo indeed.

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Short, But Not Sweet

Hot, humid, covered in sweat, head at a funny angle, I wake to discover I’m sprawled out on a jungle floor. Foliage is partly covering me, it feels like I’m trying to hide from something. There’s a rustling nearby and then a face of sorts peers over me, a creepy white face that isn’t fully formed. I don’t move, and try not top breathe. It goes away. Because it thinks I’m dead.

I know I’ve got to get up, get to somewhere safe but I just can’t move. It’s not the complete terror that’s racing through me that’s stopping me. It’s the weird thing sticking out of my right shoulder and a sort of numbness. I try to move my head, but I can’t, it’s stuck at the weird angle with my cheek resting on my shoulder. Managing to move my left arm, I start feeling around my right shoulder trying to figure out what’s wrong. My hand comes away covered in blood, it feels like there’s part of me missing. I start tugging on the thing sticking out of my right shoulder thinking that’s what’s preventing me from moving but I just can’t budge it and I can’t get a decent grip because of all the blood. It’s then that I realise that the thing sticking out of me is what’s left of my arm.

Wake up gasping for breath.

This one left me feeling like I’d had it before, but it’s not one I remember. It also left me with a need to turn the light on.

I can’t explain this one, I’ve not been in a jungle, I only went out in the garden yesterday. The lawn may need mowing but it’s not quite a jungle.

I did however wake with my head at the angle it was in the dream so I can only guess that that might have been what set it off. I was fully expecting my arm to be dead but it wasn’t.

I just hope I have a nicer dream tonight!

The Aftermath

The following post may be upsetting to some. If so, I apologise but it is something I wanted to write about.

Sitting on the bed, in my arms is the most gorgeous baby. He has wispy, strawberry blonde hair that lays flat against his head, unbelievable blue eyes that are looking straight at me. He is smiling that gummy, cheeky smile that babies have that make you want to squish their cheeks together.

Holding him out in front of me, he giggles and my heart is filled with joy and happiness and everything positive in the world as I realise that the baby I’m holding is my baby. I didn’t lose him. The miscarriage never happened. My baby is here and safe and healthy and we’re a family. My husband is smiling at us from the doorway and I start to cry.

On waking up, realisation sinks in again. I’m not pregnant. I don’t have a baby. I had the miscarriage a few months ago. The tears in my dream are real but they are not tears of joy but of sadness, despair, heart break and so many other things and have soaked my pillow.

That dream was after my first miscarriage. It was the only nice dream I had in the space of a few months, all the rest were nightmares.

I’m still having nightmares after my second miscarriage. Not as many but they’re all roughly the same; there’s blood and I can’t save my baby. Sometimes, it’s not a baby, it’s a light and the light fades until there’s only blackness. When it is a baby, it’s tiny and so fragile and it dies in my arms.

There is no need to interpret any of these nightmares. They all speak for themselves. In fact, I think it’s my brain telling me that I still need to grieve for my losses.

You may wonder why I’ve written about this, especially compared with the silliness and weirdness of all of my usual dreams.

It’s because this week, 9th – 15th October, is Baby Loss Awareness Week, something I’d never heard of until my first miscarriage. It’s a week to publicly remember and raise awareness of babies that have died either during pregnancy, at or during birth or after.

I’m trying to do my bit. As well as this blog entry and wearing a pin all year round, in the coming months, I have two personal essays coming out about how my miscarriages have affected me.

It’s not easy to move on from something so traumatic, and painful. It doesn’t matter how far along you are, as soon as you find out you’re pregnant, you are a mother. I am a mother but I never got to meet my babies but I will forever love them and wonder. I will never forget them or how filled with hope and joy I was at the prospect of them.

It doesn’t matter what people say, it wasn’t just a cluster of cells, it was a baby. Being young and having ‘plenty of time’ does not come into it, nor does trying for another. It isn’t ‘just like a period’ and being told that lots of women have miscarriages and then go on to have several children does not help either.

There is no time limit or rules as to how someone deals with such a loss. Do not feel as though you should be over it because that’s what people tell you. Do what you need to recover and grieve and seek help if you need it. But most of all, let yourself grieve.

Do not be ashamed. Do not think it was your fault.

If you would like to find out more about Baby Loss Awareness Week, please visit http://babyloss-awareness.org/ .

#waveoflight

#babyloss

#breakthesilence

#miscarriage

The End of the World

I’m with my husband. I don’t recognise the house we’re in but it’s where we live and we’re packing everything up. Well, as much as possible anyway, cramming rucksacks with essentials and boxing up everything else. It doesn’t quite make sense to me as it’s the end of the world and we’re not going to survive so what’s the point in packing away our things? Even packing essentials to carry with us doesn’t really make sense. I’m not sure how it’s the end of the world either but I think it’s to do with a far away star or planet that’s going to explode or something causing some sort of ‘shift’ with our planet and thus causing the end of Earth. That’s what it feels like anyway. I do know that we’re not going to be hit by asteroids. It is a ‘shift’ in the balance of the universe that is going to destroy Earth in some way. I know this because I have seen it. Somehow, I’ve been in space and witnessed this star/planet dying.

Anyway, we have to leave and everyone else is doing the same. I step out into the back garden to see that the weather is changing, it’s becoming cloudy and there’s a strong wind. I go back inside and pick up a rucksack. We leave the house and get in a red car and we set off. Where to, I don’t know, none of the situation makes sense to me. We can’t escape but as we pull out onto a main road it’s not as busy with cars as I assumed it would be, it’s more like a busy Saturday morning traffic, not end of the world, roads crammed with vehicles, horns honking busy. So it doesn’t seem as though it is the end of the world but I have an impending sense of doom that I can’t escape from and I know that we are all going to die.

Interpretation using dreammoods.com –

  • The end of the world suggests I’m under a tremendous level of stress. I’m feeling vulnerable or helpless in a situation.

  • Packing can signify big changes ahead. I’m putting the past behind me. Alternatively, it can represent burdens that I carry.

  • Outer space represents my creativity or it could be a metaphor that something has come out of nowhere

  • A planet can signify creativity, exploration and new adventures. I’m trying to align myself with untapped energies I don’t know I have

My thoughts –

Well, really this was a nightmare. The sense of doom was incredible and was still there when I woke up which was rather unpleasant. What interests me is that I knew that what we were doing didn’t make any sense. In a lot of my dreams I just tend to go with whatever is happening and not question anything. I can safely say that this dream is a good example of dreaming about things going on in real life and one that can be interpreted and have meaning.

I believe that I dreamed about packing simply because my husband and I have to move house again. We only moved in January this year and we have to move again which is way too soon and causing a lot of stress. However, it’s not the kind of stress that makes me feel as though the world is ending. However, we have been under stress for other reasons too. That’s life for you!

As for the creativity parts of the interpretation, I am a creative person so hopefully, it means that something that I’m working on will come together.

Anyway, this isn’t a dream I’d like to repeat as it was a horrible feeling throughout the dream and when I woke. Just glad I didn’t witness the end of the world!

Scary!

I had this one years ago, yet another that I didn’t need to write down at the time but now I wish I did because I can’t remember it all.

It’s night time and I’m walking down a street, there’s the odd building but nothing seems familiar to me. The next thing I know, Jack Nicholson has me by the throat and is pinning me to a wall. He’s really angry and has an axe in his right hand, he’s holding it near my face.

I wake up, drenched in sweat and not able to move.

Interpretation;

Pretty sure I’d recently watched The Shining.

The Battlefield

It’s night time, the moon is high in the sky and there’s cries of the dying in the air. Along with the screams, I can hear metal hitting metal as swords clash against armour. Confused by the noise, I look around to see that I’m in a field and in the middle of a battle. There are Roman soldiers fighting each other. I realise that I’m laid on the ground, trapped under something. I am wounded, I think my side is bleeding but it’s difficult to tell as I hurt all over and there’s blood splashed up my clothing. The ground I’m laid on is muddy and wet but it’s not wet from rain, it’s wet from blood. As I’m taking in what’s going on around me, someone to my right is killed, they fall down dead , partly landing on my arm. I then feel myself being grabbed and hauled up off the ground. As I stand, there’s a man in front of me. He has an grin on his face and is drenched in blood. It’s in his hair, running down his face, it’s like someone has tipped a bucket of the stuff on his head. I’m pretty sure this guy is bad, maybe even evil and he has something to do with the death that is happening around us. He starts to move closer to me.

I wake up.

Interpretation using www.dreammoods.com

  • A battlefield can represent a major conflict life. It could indicate a new situation, problem or relationship that needs to solved or conquered.
  • Blood can represent life, love, passion and disappointments.
  • The moon represents a hidden, aspect of oneself. It can be often associated with the feminine mystique and intuition. Alternatively it signifies changing mood.

My thoughts? As interesting and random as this dream was, I didn’t enjoy it much. I don’t think the above interpretation rings any bells and I can’t recall anything in the days leading up to this dream that could have influenced it. It’s truly random.

Faces In The Ice

Pretty sure I’ve had this one a couple of times, but I can’t remember when I first had it.

I’m at the primary school I used to go to. There’s no one else about. It’s daytime but it’s a dull day, like it’s overcast, it’s very grey and cold. I think I’m wrapped up in a winter coat and scarf, I’m not sure. I don’t even know what age I am. Anyway, the place is deserted, I can’t hear any birds and I can’t feel any wind. I start to walk further into the playground, onto the one that was reserved for the bigger kids. The ground feels weird under my feet, it doesn’t feel like concrete like it should do. So I look down. The ground is ice, like it was a lake and it’s frozen. I can see things in the ice. It takes me a moment to realise  what I can see are faces. Dozens and dozens of faces with awful expressions on them.

I hate this one, very unpleasant.