I had two vivid nightmares last night. Except for when I’m pregnant, I normally don’t remember my dreams that well, just vague memories of what may have happened, more snapshots than movies. The dreams last night left crazy snapshots, but I can remember the entire movies surrounding the nightmares themselves, as well as some of the weirdness leading up to them.
The first happened in a classroom setting. It was a biology type class, and we were learning about some of the nastier creatures on this earth. The teacher pulled out a scorpion in a sealed container. Squeamish about such things, I cowered in a corner, hesitant to even look at the foul thing. Naturally, the teacher let it out at some point, and it grew from the tiny little black thing into something resembling a lobster, size and all. The teacher and a couple of the braver students started chasing it all over the floor to recapture it, and I continued to cower anytime it came near. Then it ended up on the desks and settled on mine–right next to my face. I was frozen in fear yet trembling at the same time. I remember fervently praying that it wouldn’t sting me. And then I prayed that it would so that I could just get it over with.
And then I forced myself to wake up and stay awake long enough for the images to start to leave my mind. I’m always terrified I’m going to fall asleep right back into the dream I left when I have one like that. I don’t know why I worry; I can’t fall back into the good ones when I want to either.
The second dream I was on an elevator in a four-story building (that oddly enough resembled one of the dorms at the college I attended). I was on the fourth floor headed down. I noted that the elevator seemed more rickety than the last time I had ridden on it and made a comment to the other three people on the elevator. It started shaking even worse, just before the shaking suddenly stopped altogether–giving way to a complete freefall. We fell three looooong stories and crashed to the ground. Those freefall seconds were the longest I could remember. I guess pure terror has a tendency to make time stretch out forever. Miraculously, none of us were hurt beyond simple bruises, and we were able to walk away from the demolished elevator.
Still, I was happy to be awake again after that one, even if it had a good ending. I didn’t get back into a good sleep pattern after that, probably to protect myself from similar dreams. As always, I wonder what this is saying about my subconscious. Is there something I’m afraid of that I haven’t admitted to myself? Or am I more nervous about scorpions and elevators than I thought? I don’t have any other ideas of things that may have happened in real life to trigger the dreams.