Last night I had one of the most disturbing dreams I can remember. For whatever reason, my family moved to the South (Bible Belt) region of the U.S. We came across a very large, and decrepit apartment complex that was built in a plantation style. As my mother, brother and I walked the dogs around the complex I noticed several white hoods scattered about the place. As comical as it may sound, I knew that I had somehow stumbled across the unofficial headquarters for the Klu Klux Klan. The rest of the dream consisted of my family and I sneaking through the complex, trying to escape undetected.
Unfortunately, a little old lady decided to grab a surgical screw that had been filed down to a sharp point and stabbed Teddy twice with it. As he lay dying in my arms I told my mother and brother to take Jonesy and leave the state. They asked what I was going to do and I answered that they knew what I was planning on doing and that I was ready to give my life for it.
They left and I took the screw out of Teddy's tiny rib cage and carried him around with me as I sought out the little old lady. I came up behind her and told her to turn around. She did. I then proceeded to stab her in the jugular. I watched as she bled out rapidly and her blood didn't touch me. The only blood I had on me was Teddy's. She slowly sank to the ground and I told her "I hope you suffer more than you've ever suffered in this life because you'll pray for my kind of justice when you're rotting in hell."
I have no idea where the hell this pent up rage and murderous rampage came from. Yes, I am a vindictive person. Yes, I crave revenge. But I have always used words to defeat my enemies.
The dream continued with me going door to door, gouging people's eyes out, ripping out their spines, breaking open their jaws, and all manner of torture my twisted mind could conjure up. All the while, Teddy's dead body was in my arms, his blood kept seeping out to cover my skin. One KKK member came out and shot me in the chest with a shotgun. I felt the pellets go into my flesh and scrape my sternum. I looked at him and told him he would be the last to die today. I started feeling the pain from my wounds growing stronger, but I knew that I had enough strength left to take his life. I took my surgical screw and disemboweled him -- medieval style -- letting his intestines hang over the balcony to the floor below.
The last few scenes before I woke up were of myself walking down an empty dirt road, a green meadow on my right side and the sun in front of me. I chose a soft shady spot under a tree to lean on so that I could die in peace.
What's my interpretation for this dream? I don't have one, as of yet. I just remember looking for some kind of fulfillment in the dream. All I wanted was death all around me and for me to be the sole cause of it. I wanted to feel sad and mourn Teddy's murder, but all I felt was blood lust.
Maybe I watch too many Quentin Tarantino movies. Or maybe I do have a demon in me after all and she finally made her presence known. I know it's a female. This kind of rage can only be brought about by a woman that feels like her fetus has been ripped out of her womb. It's a little worrisome. But there are also other factors that could have caused me to crave such violence.
Creepy guys for example. I met a guy named John. He showed up out of nowhere. Immediately he told me he was a manic-depressive. My guard was already on alert, but after hearing that he was legitimately kookoocachoo, my guard tripled its defenses. For some reason, he liked me. He told me "You just exude so much sensuality. I have to try to take you home." I told him I wasn't interested. He kept repeating "It's just sex." I looked to my friend for help, but he provided none. I knew then that I was alone. I had to fend for myself and I was terrified. I didn't know what to expect from John. I thought that at any moment if I was too disgusted by his advances or defended myself too aggressively that his temperament would flip and he would stab me or something.
Now the dream makes sense. I forced myself to stay calm, to have a coy smile on my face, and to softly and non-aggressively dodge John's advances. My friend finally got the hint that I wanted to leave and was extremely uncomfortable. He left me alone for about ten minutes with John. So I made conversation and gave him a fake phone number and "memorized" his email address. I told my heart to stay in my chest cavity, and begged my blood pressure not to give me a heart attack. As my friend and I walked away, my feet wanted to run as fast as they would go and to never look back.
Unfortunately, a little old lady decided to grab a surgical screw that had been filed down to a sharp point and stabbed Teddy twice with it. As he lay dying in my arms I told my mother and brother to take Jonesy and leave the state. They asked what I was going to do and I answered that they knew what I was planning on doing and that I was ready to give my life for it.
They left and I took the screw out of Teddy's tiny rib cage and carried him around with me as I sought out the little old lady. I came up behind her and told her to turn around. She did. I then proceeded to stab her in the jugular. I watched as she bled out rapidly and her blood didn't touch me. The only blood I had on me was Teddy's. She slowly sank to the ground and I told her "I hope you suffer more than you've ever suffered in this life because you'll pray for my kind of justice when you're rotting in hell."
I have no idea where the hell this pent up rage and murderous rampage came from. Yes, I am a vindictive person. Yes, I crave revenge. But I have always used words to defeat my enemies.
The dream continued with me going door to door, gouging people's eyes out, ripping out their spines, breaking open their jaws, and all manner of torture my twisted mind could conjure up. All the while, Teddy's dead body was in my arms, his blood kept seeping out to cover my skin. One KKK member came out and shot me in the chest with a shotgun. I felt the pellets go into my flesh and scrape my sternum. I looked at him and told him he would be the last to die today. I started feeling the pain from my wounds growing stronger, but I knew that I had enough strength left to take his life. I took my surgical screw and disemboweled him -- medieval style -- letting his intestines hang over the balcony to the floor below.
The last few scenes before I woke up were of myself walking down an empty dirt road, a green meadow on my right side and the sun in front of me. I chose a soft shady spot under a tree to lean on so that I could die in peace.
What's my interpretation for this dream? I don't have one, as of yet. I just remember looking for some kind of fulfillment in the dream. All I wanted was death all around me and for me to be the sole cause of it. I wanted to feel sad and mourn Teddy's murder, but all I felt was blood lust.
Maybe I watch too many Quentin Tarantino movies. Or maybe I do have a demon in me after all and she finally made her presence known. I know it's a female. This kind of rage can only be brought about by a woman that feels like her fetus has been ripped out of her womb. It's a little worrisome. But there are also other factors that could have caused me to crave such violence.
Creepy guys for example. I met a guy named John. He showed up out of nowhere. Immediately he told me he was a manic-depressive. My guard was already on alert, but after hearing that he was legitimately kookoocachoo, my guard tripled its defenses. For some reason, he liked me. He told me "You just exude so much sensuality. I have to try to take you home." I told him I wasn't interested. He kept repeating "It's just sex." I looked to my friend for help, but he provided none. I knew then that I was alone. I had to fend for myself and I was terrified. I didn't know what to expect from John. I thought that at any moment if I was too disgusted by his advances or defended myself too aggressively that his temperament would flip and he would stab me or something.
Now the dream makes sense. I forced myself to stay calm, to have a coy smile on my face, and to softly and non-aggressively dodge John's advances. My friend finally got the hint that I wanted to leave and was extremely uncomfortable. He left me alone for about ten minutes with John. So I made conversation and gave him a fake phone number and "memorized" his email address. I told my heart to stay in my chest cavity, and begged my blood pressure not to give me a heart attack. As my friend and I walked away, my feet wanted to run as fast as they would go and to never look back.
My friend later told me that he got the same wacko vibe from John that I had felt.
My dream was a culmination of all of my defensive instincts that I had forced myself to stifle. Because I did not use the fight or flight response when I had felt threatened in a waking state, my subconscious decided to jolt my system with a horrible nightmare of the way I should react when my life is threatened. Point taken, subconscious, point taken.
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