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Dreams – Part Two (Adventures in Dreamland)

To read about the evolution of my dream journal, please read Dreams – Part One (Dream Journal) https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/11/01/dreams-part-one-dream-journal/

When I dream about home, I most often dream about the trailer I lived in between the ages of 8 and 23.  The other night I even dreamed that my son was there, which is really weird because that place is long gone.  My son has never been there.  He wasn’t even a glimmer in my eye last time I was there.

This where i am when I dream of home. The saddest picture ever. I came of age in that home, and then it was just pulled out to the curb to be sold for best offer.


I also dreamed I had to grab my son and hide with him under the bathroom sink in the half (more the size of a quarter) bath because mobsters were coming to shoot us.  (The whole time, I kept thinking in the dream, “Was there really enough room for me to hide under that sink?”)  When I woke up, I was scared of the mobsters with guns blazing, of course, but not surprised.  I have dreams of people with guns chasing me every so often.

Illustration from my dream journal about my recurring wrist dream.


The first dream I can ever remember having was also one of the few recurring dreams I have ever had.   That was when I was really young – 4 or 5.  In my dream I was wearing my blue hooded sweatshirt and running away from bad guy sin a big grey factory.  There were big tanks and all sorts of walkways from the ceiling.  The bad guys saw me and shot me. I help up my wrist and there was just a hole through it with black sides.  No blood, not a realistic wound.  I could look right through the hole in my wrist at the bad guys. 

What terrible person would chase this girl through a scary factory and shoot her through the wrist?


Here it is in poem form:

The recurring dream

On a night i no longer remember
i got tucked into bed
covered up my head
and my mind turned on me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

my blue-hooded jacket
among all the metal
the metal that passed right through me
without me noticing

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

fast-moving among the rafters
their steps echoing on the catwalk
thump-thump-thump
like my little heart

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

ducking behind the giant tanks
doesn’t matter what is in them
maybe it is the blood
that doesn’t flow from me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i can’t see their identities
just dark forms ever-moving
why don’t i stop & face them
the faceless

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i’m scared, it’s dark
i run
but it’s all familiar
deep down
it is all a part of me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i’ve got you now
but you can’t protect me
from what only the night can see

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i still can’t see
who i was meant to
grow up & be
this life is just a blur to me
as i run

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i have a good life
but it is hard to see
looking through this blackened
hole in me

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

with roots like these
i can’t leave
but still I try to shake free
imagine it all some other way

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

i want what i don’t have
i don’t have all that I want
i’ll never be satisfied
with this empty hole

they are after me again
gun in hand
faster still i run
till this hole in my wrist is done

it’s eating away at me
still i run further
i can see them chasing me
always chasing me
my most vivid unreal memory
–JLS 05/11/06

I guess maybe that symbolizes my anxieties that I can run, but not hide from.  They continue to pursue me.

I heard a kid in school onetime say that his mother had told him that if you dream the same dream three nights in a row, it will come true.

Shortly after I heard this, I had two dreams about my dad in about four night’s time.  I was so terrified I would have the third dream and it would come true that I couldn’t sleep for several nights.  The third dream never came.

The first dream, if I can remember, was my dad came back and we were talking in the kitchen.  (My dad died before I was born.) He thought I should be happy to see him, but I was really mad.  I was yelling at him that, “It was wrong you weren’t here all those years.  I had to grow up without a dad.  Do you know how terrible that is?  You want me to just forgive you?”

But in the second dream, he wanted to take me away with him and I was no longer angry.  I was asking him questions and was really curious.  I never did give him an answer in that dream.  After I woke up, I was afraid if I had another dream that I would say “yes” and I would die in my sleep in order to go with him.  It scared me very much.

I dream about tornadoes every so often.  The dreams reflect my real life feelings about them.  I am scared to death, but also very fascinated by them.  The thought of a tornado coming for me is terrifying (This time, its personal?).  Yet, the thrill of a tornado warning trip to the basement or watching a storm chaser show on TV is exciting.  (Once my husband and I drove through an area that had been hit by a tornado two weeks earlier.  Not a pretty site.  So devastating.  I couldn’t even bring myself to take pictures.)

I am out of the habit of writing down my dreams nowadays, but this dreams was very “powerful” and, once you read it you will see that it just begs to be included in a blog post. I have used it to show the format for which I record my dreams. (Click the picture to enlarge.)

As I come to the end of this post, I am torn.  Do I go back to a dream journal as a means of greater understanding of self?  Or do I face the fact that I am adult with too many other responsibilities in my life right now?

Hmmm…Maybe I will sleep on it.

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Dreams – Part One (Dream Journal)

I kept a dream journal from 1994 until a few years ago.  When my best friend in high school was interested in witchcraft, we used to go to the Barnes & Noble to look at the books about it.  I wasn’t as interested.  I looked at the dream books, which were conveniently located right next to the witchcraft.

The Dream Game by Ann Faraday


I was already interested in my dreams and writing them down, when I bought a book called The Dream Game by Ann Faraday.  It taught me two things.  The first was that the most important thing you can do is to keep a journal of your dreams.  The reason for this, as I experienced firsthand, was that as you try to remember your dreams to write them down, in time you remember more dreams and remember them more clearly.

The second is something I can’t be sure, but I think it was in the book.  I got the impression from the book that people’s dream diaries could be collected and studied.  And so, this strange assumption drove me to diligently collect and interpret my dreams for almost 15 years.  It is something I have mentioned in my blog before.  My desire to be famous, although I really have no talent for anything that would easily translate into fame.  So, I jotted down my dreams for years, thinking that someday when I died off as an old grey-haired lady, maybe someone would study them.

My very first official dream journal


I never did finish reading The Dream Game.  I am always meaning to reread it, but haven’t.  Even now, it is in my bedroom waiting to be fully read.  My first dream journal shows signs that that book made a big impression on me though.  Besides the date and description of each dream, the back contains an appendix of:

    The “emotions” the dreams evoked

    Number of instances of people and objects/themes in my dreams

    What cities I was in in my dreams

    Places in my dreams

    How many dreams I had per night

(These categories would all be so great to put into a spreadsheet, now that I know what one is).  It is strange that I started a dream journal as I was starting college.  Those four years were the least sleep I have ever gotten in my entire life.  Mostly I seemed to dream about my friends, the boys I liked, and the college building all my Communications classes were in, and Christmas (?).

Later, after college, my dream journal evolved.  I no longer kept stats at the end of each volume.  My interpretations sometimes became longer than the dreams themselves.  My green-haired friend inspired me to add additional content to my dream journal.  It now contained email conversations from my friends and pictures clipped from magazines of my favorite bands.  It morphed into a real journal, which gave the dreams a nice framework in which to be interpreted within the context of my everyday life and influences.  It also became much bulkier and more time-consuming.

For a while I tried to write down my dreams in the middle of the night, but they seldom came out legible.  Then I started writing them down in the morning when I woke up, but having to be to work on time interfered with that.  So then I started putting my dreams and interpretations into emails when I first arrived at work that I sent to my friend and kept a copy for myself.  (I am sorry to everyone who had to spend the time to delete them out of their inbox daily.)  At a later time, I would cut it off of the 8 ½” X 11” papers and glue it into my journal.

The Secret Language of Symbols by David Fontana. While not strictly a book on dream symbols, I often used this book in interpreting my dreams.


Type and paste was a great technique to get reasonably timely dream details and interpretations recorded for posterity.  But, it created a tremendous backlog of loose-leaf dreams that needed to be compiled into the journal.  At one point, I was two years behind.  Then my mom had her kidney removed and I got caught up during her recovery.  Then I got two years behind again.  And then I just threw that stuff in a Paperchase storage box and called it a “dream box” and gave up.

Now I am relegated to telling my groggy husband my dreams before I get out of bed in the morning, which he promptly forgets or never hears in the first place.  I contemplated making a separate blog to store my dreams in.  I thought that would make it funner.  But that also seems like a lot of work for something I wouldn’t really want people who don’t know me to read.  What if I dreamed about someone and they read it?  And conversely, if a person didn’t know me, why would they give a rat’s ass about my nocturnal adventures?

Come back tomorrow for Dreams – Part Two (Adventures in Dreamland) https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2012/11/02/dreams-part-two-adventures-in-dreamland/

I’m not stalking you. is NOW ON FACEBOOK! “Like” that I’m not stalking you and get an update when there is a new post to read. (It is sort of like YOU are stalking ME.)

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