I read somewhere once that it's kind of taboo to write about your dreams on your blog. Doesn't make any sense to me given all the other personal details of life we share on blogs. But my dreams over the last several years have been offering all kinds of clues and I want to listen.
I had this dream this morning (anything in parentheses is commentary to clarify or distinguish relations to waking life) :
A friend of mine comes to visit (this friend is an actress, bubbly, exotically beautiful, grounded and spiritual). I have a guest or roommate living with me and Lexie is also home. My friend E is flitting about talking and moving from room to room. Lexie is smitten with her, and I follow the two of them around hoping for an opportunity to get E alone and tell her what's going on in my life, particularly how I've been diagnosed with complex-PTSD. I desperately want her to understand why I haven't been myself these past several years.
E goes outside and lights a cigarette. I am taken aback since she's always been a clean living kind of gal, but I notice that they are ultra-ultra-light cigarettes and I pull out one of my own. Lexie takes everything in about E with great interest.
The scene shifts to an art studio with a crowd of people moving about in smocks and black turtlenecks and beanies working on various projects or standing around talking. An old acquaintance from my high school shows up and she has been completely transformed. In high school she was considered masculine and ugly, but now she has beautiful luscious auburn curls framing a delicate face and her movements are worldly. I express my astonishment and gush over her transformation. She takes it all in silently and then moves on.
I find E near a barrel and she is smoking pot from a ladybug shaped bowl (to my knowledge E is not a pot smoker in waking life) and I join her but just as I am filling my ladybug bowl she is emptying hers. There is a very specific mechanism to empty the bowl and I am watching her do this when the "police" break down the door. It is one cop, dressed all in white, and he immediately rushes me and pins me to the ground confiscating the ladybug bowl I had been trying to empty. He has his foot on my neck as he is shouting accusations and measuring the bowl with a measuring tape.
In the dream smoking pot was not illegal (I don't smoke in waking life) but selling was and he was accusing me of selling. Every time I tried to explain he would cut me off or mishear me, so when I said I was just trying to find the s...he shouted, "Trying to get to the STORES!"
It became obvious he was not listening so I yelled loudly and clearly, "I have complex-PTSD and you are needlessly pinning me to the ground triggering my symptoms. Let me up now. Let me up NOW. LET me UP NOW!". I keep repeating and I see him falter, especially as the crowd is beginning to gather and look at him. He lets me up but I am now angry and panicked and full of adrenaline. I pace while yelling, "I'll SUE your ASS!", and then I flee out the back.
On the road it is dark. I run barefoot along the edge of the road, sure that the white cop is close on my heels. Further from the studio house the road gets progressively darker and then I see eyes in a tree. Fright gets the better of me so I turn back. There are footsteps behind me now and when I turn it is him, he is upon me and grabs me tightly by the elbow and starts walking me, saying nothing. A group of kids happen along and I start screaming and break free from the white cop, running to them and begging them to protect me. He is smiling and calm and I am clearly out of my mind. I see their eyes move back and forth between him and me, hesitating.
I wake up.