Recently in Dreams Category

It was not long ago in Piano Dream that I wrote about my recent resurgence in dreams and nightmares. I do not quite have an explanation for all this new sleep activity. But it was pretty absent for some time (like close to a year I would guess).

I find it difficult to talk directly about what is going on in my life, and maybe that is why I am having these dreams. So, instead of telling you about all my problems in plain language, I thought I would cast them all in the recent dream.

So, in my dream I was a cop for the college I teach at. Strange how it happened. I was doing work stuff. My boss was trying to get me to have lunch with someone I know about some research I am doing. He was rushing me and I was already so busy trying to get things done. Somehow I just became a cop, like a switch, and apparently I was on duty.

Almost immediately I came across these two people, man and woman, acting drunk and going down the street on scooters in the middle of traffic. The man was overweight and the woman was rather hardened looking and had that drug addict look. They both were unkempt. But I do not at all remember their faces. I got them off the street and had them sit in the atrium of a big building at the college. I then went off to do something else. I was so busy.

The woman then asked why I was just leaving them there. They wanted to leave. I said I was letting them cool off a bit and I would talk to them soon. Then I noticed the woman was having sex with the man and she was not at all being discreet about it. I got embarrassed a bit and told others what was going on and said something like "How am I going to approach this one?"

I did eventually talk to them. I then put them in some sort of police van. And we were in some sort of snowstorm. It got a little heated. It was then the woman came out and said that they sexually abuse their children. She said something about doing sexual things to them and teaching them how to do things to each other; and implied that they were left home all the time and had no interaction with the outside world.

I exploded. I immediately said they were under arrest. The man tried to escape. I chased him. He got in a car. I had my gun pulled on him. I took a warning shot through the window. Then all hell broke loose in the streets. I dragged him out and somehow he pulled a knife and stabbed himself. I was so mad because I wanted him not to die and see him get justice. But I saw it was not a deep wound.

The woman was near him and I don't know what was going on at this point. It was crazy because there were lots of cops there now. One of the cops did get stabbed in the shoulder. I had someone call an ambulance because I was determined to make sure the arrested man was okay. Apparently, I was in charge of everything. Because everyone kept coming to me to ask me what to do.

At that point, I almost forgot that I had to go over to where their kids lived. I was about to do that, when I realized I should not go over alone or alone as a male. So, I asked a female cop to come with me. I somehow thought that piece through carefully. On one level, I thought that if I went in alone, nobody would believe me. I also thought I could be accused of abuse. I also thought that the kids would not trust me to tell me what was going on; but I mostly reality checked that last point only because I had a sense I would be able to get them to tell me. So, we went to the house. It was a rundown townhouse. There was scrambling when we got to the door. We thought the kids were being taken away. We pulled our guns. We knocked down the door. I woke up.

So, that was the dream. And many others are variants of this; like two nights ago I was in a warehouse and was shooting zombies (sort of like Rambo). There is some context for these dreams. During the time period I was getting abused in real life, I used to fantasize about actually being a cop. The priest who abused me was a chaplain for the police and fire, and somehow I got a hold of one of the badges. This went on through high school. It was very strange for me. I also was an EMT in high school, and taking the Boston public transport in the 80s to school was filled with real-world violence. There were frequently stabbings and the sort, and I would sometimes be a first responder. At one point, when I revealed this in therapy, it was suggested to me that part of me did that in order to make myself feel safe and protected. It is interesting that many of my dreams revolve around these kind of dynamics.

I do not generally post my dreams or nightmares. I just think they are usually so far out there that they will be of no use to others. This one is no exception. But I am posting it today because it will help provide context for the next post later this week.

In the dream, I was with my wife and and eldest daughter at a rather odd hotel for a gymnastics meet. My daughter was off doing something with her friends. And my wife and I were taking our bags up the elevator to our room. I remember we were on the 6th floor. It was not an ordinary hotel. It was more like a really old cluttered house. We stumbled upon a room where there was a rather effeminate man doing something with a college-age girl of Indian heritage. He sort of reminded me of Detective Tardio from Martin Lawrence's "What's the Worst That Could Happen?" (a really funny but off color movie). He was helping the girl make some garments, and material was strewn across the large table.

I walked in and noticed he had a really old grand piano. It was not an ordinary piano, but a red-ish leopard finish and in great condition. It was old and exceedingly long. He immediately asked if I wanted to play it. I said yes. I said "What is your favorite song?" And he said Memory from Cats or anything from Phantom of the Opera. He fumbled around and found the sheet music. I played. And I completely fell in love with the feel of this piano. After I played his favorites, I then played all bunch of styles of music and put the piano through its paces.

So, I played and played. When I was done, I asked him about the piano. I asked how long he's had it. He said it's been through generations. He said "It has been in my family for nearly 200 years." Then he surprised me with "Do you want to buy it?" I said "How much?" The reply was $75. I thought he had been joking because I knew it was an awesome piano.

I was going to say yes. But immediately I thought that I had to clear it with my wife, which is something I rarely do in real life so I have no idea why I did it in the dream! She was way on the other side of the room admiring some of the furnishings in the room. I also thought about whether we would have the space in my music room.

But, before I could say yes, the Indian girl sort of randomly said she would buy it. The man accepted. I said that wasn't fair because he asked me. Plus I was the one who put the piano through its paces and she showed no interest. I got into an argument with the girl, even grabbing her by the front of her shirt. I started yelling. But she would not back down. The effeminate man sat quietly and did nothing. I tried to reason with him. But he wouldn't listen. I kept saying this wasn't fair.

It was then that I looked back in on the piano. It was a really eclectic piano. When closed, I was hoping the manufacturer of the piano was Steinway. But the name of the piano was SKELERTON (or something like that, I'm not sure really). But the lettering was really large like 8 inches high and shiny silver and covered the whole width of the piano. I had never seen anything like that on a piano. But I didn't care. The piano just played like a dream and that was all that mattered.

I kept fighting with the girl. She seemed to have no interest in the piano, but it felt like she was doing this just to get to me. The man said something about getting him a check. So, she went outside and got her mother. The mother came up the stairs and started arguing with me. I tried to reason with her. But she just kept talking over me. The mother was blonde and very American looking. She was doing talking nonsense, which to me said that she had no argument, but thought if she just kept talking she could not lose. So, that's what she did, she just kept talking.

At which point, I said, "Okay, you win." And I woke up.

Last week was our family vacation to the beach. I had mixed feelings about going. One of the reasons was that I had been "off the healing track" for months and felt like I was just getting things back on track in the couple weeks leading up to the trip. I did not want to upset that. Another, is that these days I find it almost impossible to sleep away from home without huge difficulties. But, I also saw the trip as an opportunity to have well-deserved together time with my wife and girls away from the daily routine.

The trip was precisely the mixed bag I had anticipated. Every night I had nightmares or very weird dreams (something I had not experienced for a long time). My Healing Guide (therapist) was, for the most part, "out of sight, out of mind." And I flirted with what I guess was denial, wondering what I could possibly have to heal from or why it wasn't over with already? That was not really a bad thing. We all need a vacation from work or from our troubles. During the days, I was quite engaged with the family and had virtually zero difficulties. We played paddleball on the beach, made sand castles, got a tan, played harmonica, and cooked lobster. So, by any measure, it was a success.

When I came home, though, the vacation meant almost nothing. The experience was lost. Even though I have the pictures, they very much have a "newspaper" feel to them.

Then, yesterday, I realized that I was in "robot mode." I was not really connected internally in any meaningful way. I was "off the track," which was something I wanted to avoid. I know that is not good. It puts me at risk. It means that I am more vulnerable to triggers. I am more apt to deal with things in a more fragmented way. My safety becomes jeopardized.

Funny how that happens, huh? Vacations are meant to recharge you so you can resume life with renewed vigor. That like never happens for me! I know this is not the first time dealing with this vacation issue. In June, I wrote Is This a Vacation or Allowing? where I thought I was taking what I thought was a "healthy" internal vacation, but it was not good for me. Last October, after being completely functional while my wife went away on her own vacation, I had a huge collapse that I wrote about in The Boat is Sinking or Is There Even a Boat?

Maybe part of the problem, if you want to call it that, is that we came back from vacation to some big changes. This week is the unofficial start to Fall. And I recently discovered I have an aversion to seasonal changes. The kids started school today. And work officially "ramps up" now for me, as I am on an academic calendar.

I know I have to find my equilibrium. I just get so disoriented so easily it seems. I will try to take it easy on myself. I will try to shift things away from fragmentation. I will try to get on the track again. I know the types of things that I can do to help. They entail checking-in internally, journaling, not throwing myself completely into work.

It is all about balance you know. Of course, those of us who dissociate, know that balance is difficult to achieve. I usually say it is difficult because we are trying to do it while riding a unicycle on a tightrope, backwards, blindfolded, chewing gum, in hundred mile hour winds. But the funny thing is that we can actually do it!

I've talked before about dreams and nightmares (see "Dreams" category), including in the last post. I wanted to bring up a connection I made just tonight.

First, I repost from the comments of the prior post the broad brush of my dream tonight:

As I've said before, I don't spend much time interpreting every detail of my dream, searching for hidden meanings. It's much easier now to get the take home message from them because they all seem to clear.

I mostly don't remember much at all about my dreams or nightmares when I wake. I could have easily turned over and went back to sleep and this morning I would probably have had only a sense that I dreamed but would not have known much more than that. But I find that when I sit up for a while and breathe a little, the memory of the dreams surface. It's not exactly effort. I cannot really think myself into remembering. It's more of an internal acceptance and listening that allows it to happen.

I suddenly realized that the manner in which I remember my dreams upon waking is almost identical to how I remember therapy upon leaving. This was shocking to me. This tells me that in therapy, I clearly am often in some other state of consciousness.

But it also tells me that I have the ability to communicate inside. This is comforting.

In tomorrow's post, I'll write about disordered sleep and sleep hygiene.

I get disturbed by most dreams and nightmares. But I seem to always learn something from them. Recently I had a nightmare, that I'll share with you all.

For the most part, the nightmare was about protecting my two children. But I largely think they are metaphors for me as a whole. Just like the other dream was a metaphor for me (the first with the data is protecting the integrity of what I hold and am learning about my brain; the second was protecting the little princess which I think was my sanity which was later revealed to be about protecting many more than just her which represented all inside and, maybe, outside).

This dream had McLean Hospital in it, the place I go to for help. If you've ever seen the movie "Girl Interrupted", you will know that the hospital is connected by a series of underground tunnels. Sometimes these tunnels can be a little bit freakish. This nightmare largely took place in the tunnels. I don't think in the beginning of the dream the kids were with me, but towards the end, it became about protecting my girls (or at least that was what I understood). These dreams are all in the Stephen King class now. Does this mean I'm getting to be sick?

There were many parts of the dream and one part had my wife and I scuba diving; but it wasn't really safe. Then my oldest daughter came to join us another time. There were things like that; doing things connected to the McLean grounds (I don't know where you would scuba at McLean), but about both sharing experiences and protecting.

Then there was a large and old lobby and I took the kids out of that building into the tunnels. The goal was to remove them before the monsters came. The monsters were horrible. As we left the building, we saw a few of my daughters' friends sitting separately and wrapped in blankets. One of them, she's a little arrogant, like a certain part of me, made some snide comment to me, and I reprimanded her and told her I was going to tell her mother. She recoiled.

Once in the tunnels, it was just like being in a horror movie. And now that I write this, I remember having another dream like this several months ago where there was a pool at my work and then priests.

But then it got many orders of magnitude more scary than anything before. Suddenly I was planning some kind of party near a pool (again a water theme). It was like a field day for kids. I was planning fun activities, but I was apparently oblivious to (or really knew but didn't say anything) the fact that these horrific monsters were going to show up.

I think this is a metaphor for there being a parts way of dealing with life. How could I possibly plan a summer party for kids, knowing they would be all killed by the monsters? Was this what my life was like as a kid? Would I plan to go to church "knowing" I would be attacked? Then maybe it really wasn't a surprise like I always said it was. Well, to me it was a surprise because I didn't have to experience anything really, and there was not much that I needed to be aware of. So, like the body pain I often experience, the experiences got handled by parts, which were and are largely all kids.

It was as if some parallel reality was going on. Because while one part of me was oblivious, some other part of me was preparing in a major and frenetic way to protect the kids at the party. The steps to the pool were barricaded and I remember saying we need larger planks of wood to shield the steps. There were also large boulders used as barriers.

Sure enough right on schedule (and there was this sense that I had to hurry up), the huge and disgusting monsters came and slashed everyone in the pool and at the ice skating race. Nobody lived. There was blood everywhere. Then I woke up.

Do others have nightmares like this that seem to tell you exactly what's going on inside? If so, what do you make of them?

Do you have dreams that help you understand your internal landscape? My dreams come in bursts. I'll have a great many for a while and then they just stop.

This one started off as some quite scary R-rated dream. It was based around my needing to safeguard the contents of my computer. OK, this now tells you I am a computer nerd! I was at some factory and got stuck there and, supposedly, that was what they did. I was with someone but don't know who. A little girl I think. But the factory was weird and scary and there were people trying to get in who were like zombies. This was very real and scary.

From there I was transported to some other PG-rated world. I was in a big house. I think it was my Nana's house. I was specifically charged with taking care of a special princess. That was my only job and failure was not an option. Just like the Navy SEALS motto, I think. There was a whole army of enemy soldiers trying to get us. There was a teenage soldier on my side, and he was supposed to help me. But he ended up getting caught by the enemy. They were marching around the house, about to come in.

I quickly took the princess up through the attic walkup. My father was there minding the entrance, but he was not paying attention and was acting dumb or like he didn't hear me. I couldn't understand that. I asked him to get me some long nails from the box of he had in front of him, so I could nail the walkup shut. That was his only job, but he didn't do it well. I ended up getting the nails myself. I nailed it shut.

In the attic with me were a bunch of other children. But I noticed, quite by surprise, that there was a window and door in the attic with a fire escape. I saw that some other children, who were supposed to hide out with me, were coming back in. I quickly told them to lock the door and be quiet. Everyone was so loud and I was trying to tell them they had to be quiet because we were going to be caught. They were all dressed poorly and their hair and clothes needed to be washed. I cannot remember what their faces looked like.

Just then I saw the young prince of the enemy. He was from India. He came up those back stairs. He saw us all. We made eye contact. Everyone went silent. He knew I was just trying to protect everyone. He nodded and left. And that's when I woke up.

I felt proud of myself for this dream.

This article appeared in the April 2009 newsletter Many Voices.

I have read Many Voices off and on for the past 18 years. Wow! That means for at least 18 years I have been on some sort of healing journey. That's a little less than half my life. Mind boggling when I think about it because sometimes it feels like I've accomplished absolutely nothing. I still have flashbacks, body memories, I switch and struggle with self-harm, but rarely act on the urges. However, everything is different now.

The biggest change is that I've made a commitment to be alive. When you can honestly make that level of commitment, you will know you are on a different, more sturdier path to healing. Suddenly you are forced to deal with the pain of all of you (yourself and your parts). You are forced to find healthier ways to push through, like breathing or drawing or writing or crying. You are forced to learn about all the parts of you and not just push them away. And you do it because you know it's the only way!

Healing from trauma, though, is kind of like learning. You don't start out knowing how it is that F=ma, you build up to it. I have had many helpful people tell me that if I just do this or that, things will get better. But none of that made any sense until I found my own way. I didn't used to think I could communicate with parts of me. I never really believed I was in it with some of the darker parts. A lot of times I didn't even believe in parts or that I was abused.

Flashbacks and body memories are sometimes more debilitating now that I don't "act out" and because they are attached to feelings. But I have new skills. I can sometimes say to myself that this is a memory and not be too caught up in it as much as I used to. I can curl up with my stuffed animals. Be comforted by loved ones. I can change my plans and say to myself that it's okay.

The largest area of growth is how I deal with my somewhat fragmented internal structure. I often denied that my "system" existed. I still do that to a degree, but I am beginning to empathize with parts and the result is increased sharing and communication and trust. The barriers, I am finding, don't need to always be so severe. So while I ask myself why, if I am getting better, do I have to experience so many bad and painful feelings that used to stay with the parts? My answer is that I am stronger now and able to experience them in a more whole way and not be destroyed. I guess that means I'm healing. This is why it's important to take a step back and assess. My knowledge that I am healing gives me the strength to go on.

Healing, though, goes hand in hand with safety, which is the topic of this issue. I have done more over the past year to create internal and external safety than at any other time in my life. I have finally been able to recognize triggers and take steps to keep myself safe. I recognize my awesome responsibility to my wife and two young children (and to myself and the children within). I do things now that I never would conceive of doing. I let my parts have time to experience what makes them feel comforted. This could be playing piano or writing or drawing or talking. And I take my internal work and therapy much more seriously now. I don't go back to work after therapy. I sit in the safe library for a few hours before therapy to write and draw and to figure out where all of me is at.

All of this change has come quite quickly for me. And this is what I want to tell all you MV readers. Only recently did I find a new therapist who was able to work with me in a very different way. This therapist works with all of me and she uses a range of methods, from talk to drawing to music. It's not been easy. The commitment is huge! But I now know everything is about safety. I finally found a safe place inside, after many years of being "told" to do so. Last September, I experienced an incredible state of consciousness, not unlike I suppose what people hope to achieve through meditation or yoga. I saw and experienced the infinite nature of the universe and my whole being was bathed for several weeks in a rich energy. That experience was my awakening. A gift, I said, for all the hard effort I had made and for the way in which I shifted my healing focus. I have not stayed at that place, but have achieved glimpses of it since. I now have something to reach for.

A few weeks ago, in a dream, my inner family took me on a journey to show me their safe place. It is a wonderfully rich place not unlike "Camelot". Now when I meditate with myself, in a safe place, I can close my eyes and go back to this place and stand alongside my parts who have finally let me in. Sometimes I do it by being quiet. Sometimes soothing music helps me get there. This is not, by any means, the end of my journey. In fact, in many ways, it's only the beginning. My parts inside are finally trusting me enough to share. We are beginning to gain a sense of family. Even darker parts that I have wished away many times are being accepted and accepting others in return.

It can be remarkably healing to accept your inner structure. But you cannot just stop there. You have to accept and make an effort to change. Only then can you experience healing.

Many Voices has been a reality check for me over the years. I have read about survivors who have immense struggles. And survivors who have integrated. Sometimes I cannot understand what I read. And often I say "These people aren't me!" But I am here to say that you are me! You are my sisters and brothers. I, like many of you, have suffered inexplicable childhood trauma. Denying is such a barrier. And today I am not ashamed to even say I have parts inside.

I also want Many Voices readers to know that, if you haven't already, you can find a path to healing. My awakening experiences were gifts that come with a responsibility. I am here to tell you that there is a safe place. You can find it. Trust yourself, work hard, and open your heart. It's right in front of you and it's incredible.

The drawing above represents my internal safe place. The striations represent energy flow from right to left and show how the safe place deflects everything and keeps the inside protected.

Epilogue

Shortly after I wrote this contribution, I had to go inpatient for nearly two weeks.  My hospitalization was extremely difficult for me as I began to come to terms with the body memories and the pain.  The words I had written above finally sunk in and I realized that sometimes you need to ask for help.  Sometimes the pain is too much and you need pain medication in order to just keep going.  But above all, I came to fully accept that the abuse I suffered has had a major impact on me and I sustained a major life threatening injury.  My work is about healing from that massive injury, by keeping me safe, my parts inside me safe, and those loved ones around me safe.   Then quite suddenly, I began to grieve for the first time ever.  My therapist said this is "monumental".   I now am truly healing.