Dreams

The color was the deepest blue. The rays coming through the clouds dazzled my eyes. I was anticipating a great day. My life long companion was keeping step with me as we leisurely strolled through the crowd. Some were waiting in line and some were sitting and eating lunch. I couldn’t decide what to do first.

Out of nowhere, the sky became darkened and the clouds bunched together. They were ominous and my visions of a beautiful day rapidly dissolved. I instinctively turned to ask my husband what we should do, but he wasn’t there. Was this the beginning of a horror story? Looked around and everything was swirling around me. My feet lifted and set down but I did not know where to go or how to get there. Sheets of water were pummeling me so I took the first shelter I could find: a house of mirrors. I was swallowed up by the hallways, and when I turned around the entrance was no longer in my sight. There was screaming. Or was it in my head? My heart was galloping away within me. I tried to ask for help, but no one even turned to me when I tried to speak.

Then I was alone, running, ever running through the maze of mirrors, colliding headlong into panes of the silvery glass. My own reflection terrorized me; I thought it was a monster. After what seemed like hours, days, months I fell and was shaking. It was hopeless. I was trapped, alone. I reached for my purse with my diabetes supplies. It wasn’t there. In fact, I had no bag of any kind.

Where was my husband? Where was my protector? I withdrew inside myself; I don’t know how much time passed. Two men were grabbing me, forcing me to stand. I cried out for my companion, but he was not there. They forced me outside the maze then set me free. I was standing on hot black asphalt – an empty parking lot. I started running and screaming. I just knew my blood sugars were dropping with every step but I didn’t know what else to do. No money, no food, no credit card, no diabetes kit, and no phone. My face was wet, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

I sat up and heaved a sigh. Where was my husband? Lying beside me. I should’ve felt safe but didn’t.

That was a recurring dream I had often for many years. Sometimes in the dream (or should I call it a nightmare?) I would run helter-skelter through a shopping mall or a mountain resort looking for my husband. I felt that he had left me and didn’t care what happened to me. I was tormented by the thought, even once I was awake.

In talking with my therapist about these dreams, I came to realize that they were reflecting my thoughts and feelings about the world. I felt alone. I felt there was no one willing to help me. These dreams happened during the time I was struggling the most with my bipolar disorder and was convinced that nobody was going to stay by me or cared what happened to me.

I cannot remember having such a dream in a few years. My waking hours are crowded with people who care about me and are here to help me. And, I accept that love and concern. I’m thinking, as my recovery is ongoing, I have become less afraid of people leaving me. I’m especially more confident that my husband would not only never leave me, but he won’t leave me even for a short while without making sure I have what I need to survive (mentally and physically) while he’s gone. I am also more confident in myself and generally can appropriately take care of myself.

God created us to have dreams to tell us something. In Genesis 40, God gave the king’s deposed cupbearer and baker dreams. They also needed help to “interpret” them. Joseph enters the scene and gives them both an interpretation. My dreams, hopefully, do not reflect a future for me as the cupbearer’s and baker’s did, but enlighten my past and my present. And sometimes they are just bizarre things my mind comes up with during sleep.