Saved by the Subconscious
December 10, 2012 § Leave a comment
I had this really intense, vivid dream last night. I’ve been watching a lot of the Walking Dead lately, and I usually try to be pretty careful about what I expose my imagination to, since it so often takes something small and runs with it (though it has the capacity to make up scary-ass shit that I’ve never seen before. A few years ago, I had this really vivid dream where I was in the kitchen of our first Alabama house and there was this scratching at the door that led to the garage. I opened it, and this dead zombie woman who was missing all of her body below the belly button dragged her way in, screaming this horrible blood-curdling scream, reaching out for me. It was totally disturbing and purely from my own imagination. When I woke up, I felt like I could still hear her screams.). I’ve also been watching it alone, which means I don’t have any visual distraction like another person would afford.
Anyway, so in the dream, I’m with a bunch of people in this warehouse area. The warehouse was red brick, had big windows, and a chain link fence around the perimeter about 25-30 feet from the walls of the building. Zombies had us surrounded, pressing themselves up against the fence as we frantically tried to gather supplies for the “bunker,” where we were planning on making our last stand. I say “bunker” because I couldn’t understand why they were calling it that since it was more like a pit. It was a 10 foot deep concrete cut out, rectangular in shape and slightly smaller than the average size of a suburban swimming pool. The pit was rimmed with a rail fence about 4 feet high. Yeah, sounds real secure, just like a bunker (note sarcasm). I was sent on the supplies run into the warehouse with about half of the group, while the others clambered down a ladder into the “bunker” to stack up supplies we already had.
As an aside, the warehouse had one exterior wall covered with these great antique porcelain signs (guess I’ve been watching too much of American Pickers as well). They were lovely. We headed around the side of the building to the entrance, but we saw that a number of zombies had forced the gate of the chainlink fence open enough for them to get through, though they could only get through one by one. We hurried into the warehouse to try to gather supplies before they reached us, but we were too slow. Abandoning the bunker, we prepared ourselves for battle inside the warehouse, basically just standing there with our guns at the ready as we watched the zombies silhouetted against the doors, pressing harder and harder against the old metal and glass that were sure to break. I remember briefly wondering how the folks in the bunker were doing. The zombies broke through the door and we were vastly outnumbered.
This is the interesting part, so pay attention.
We were vastly outnumbered and were retreating backwards into the warehouse. A male zombie grabbed me. I knew it was over, but instead of fighting or screaming or crying, I just closed my eyes. As his hands gripped my arms, I expected them to be scabby and cold, but they were warm and soft and strong. I braced for the feeling of teeth on my neck, tearing flesh and breaking through to that fat artery I use to check my pulse rate all the time, but all I felt was a soft kiss on my throat. I opened my eyes, and I was on a rocky beach, looking out over a foggy sea. The light was soft, diffused to the fog, and the breeze off the water was warm. I was sitting in the middle of a large, soft bed with white sheets, enjoying the grey tonalities of the world I’d found myself in. I felt totally comfortable, totally at peace (though normally, I have to say that I’m more of a Gulf Shores girl than a coast of Maine girl).
This is interesting on a number of levels.
It’s fascinating to me that my subconscious pulled me out of a very scary apocalyptic dream and put me into one of the most peaceful scenes it’s ever created, if not the most peaceful. It’s also interesting because of the specific nature of the switch between the dreams, with my closing my eyes and embracing inevitable death-by-zombie, but instead feeling no pain. I expected the rough grasp of the zombie’s hands followed by the ripping into my throat by sharp teeth, but instead I felt warm, gentle hands and soft lips. The transition was so smooth, seamless. And yet still so vivid. Bizarre, and a first. Usually my subconscious totally fucks me over, letting me die 100 horrible ways or leaving me alive but in an overwhelming fit of hysterics.
I am incredibly thankful for this dream, in its entirety. I don’t think I would appreciate the beach nearly as much if I hadn’t been dying in a zombie apocalypse before I got there. I also find it refreshing that my subconscious can create both good and bad dreams. I haven’t had a good dream in a long, long time, so it’s nice to know it’s still possible, though I never would have predicted the good dream it gave me last night. What a wonder to think that that feeling of complete and utter peacefulness is inside me, especially since it’s being expressed by my normally tumultuous and downright abusive subconscious. Perhaps things are getting better?
Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably just a fluke.
Totally unrelated, I saw a dead adult mouse on my way home today. I rolled his body off the sidewalk with my boot so he wouldn’t get stepped on, not that it matters now anyway. Sad.