My earliest recollection of a reoccurring anxiety dream was when I was a preschooler. I had a digestive issue as a young child, where if I ate French fries or “mixed” my food versus eating all of the greens, then all the mashed potatoes, followed by all of my meat, I’d vomit.
The reoccurring anxiety dream at that time was that my maternal grandmother would be strapped to a horizontal circular slow-spinning disk above which were very large sharp blades. Just as they started chopping her up, I’d wake up to vomit. Since I was a child, my dream showed no blood or entrails gushing forth, but the mere suggestion that someone I loved was being chopped up, made me nauseous. I’d wake up from that dream in time enough to run to the bathroom to throw up. Eventually, I outgrew that digestive problem and never had that particular anxiety dream again.
Straight out of college, I went into the Peace Corps to teach math and science in Tanzania. That experience ripped me out of my comfort zone. During that time, the reoccurring bad dream was that my teeth had fallen out. That was probably around the same time I’d started grinding my teeth. The worst of those dreams was after my teeth had fallen out, and then insects and centipedes crawled out of the sockets. As soon as I completed my service, those dreams ended.
I continued being a teacher in other foreign countries, but didn’t have reoccurring anxiety dreams until I returned to the States to teach at a high school in Austin, TX. I can truthfully say that out of all the ridiculous students and parents, nothing compared to the bullshit of the educational system within which I found myself. (That’s another blog post.)
The reoccurring dream during this time and long after was that in the middle of a dream, I’d misplace a shoe, my keys, or car. Then I’d spend the entire dream anxiously wondering around to find the missing item. I’d never find it.
At one point, I got hip to those dreams and would take control of them by manifesting lost item. It felt like cheating, even within the dream, but at least that version wouldn’t reoccur.
So, the latest dream, where I was on vacation with extended family–perhaps on a cruise ship, similar to the one we went on this past Kwanzaa–I needed a pair of flip-flops. Unlike reality, I unzipped a small carry-on, which contained nothing but shoes. I immediately saw the flip-flops, put them on and went on about my day–very unlike my previous got-to-find-my shoes/keys/car nightmares. I actually woke up feeling optimistic. And this was during the beginning of the COVID-19 shelter in place.
These days, I only read into dreams for sport. Sometimes they’re a source of writing fodder. Yet, I’ll take optimism where I can it, especially during this pandemic.