Panic Attack in my Sleep
Dreamed c. 2012/1/11 by Rainier Matthee
During this entire dream the skies are the greyest I have ever seen...
I am called to Job Corps up in Curlew to do something there; they tell me I have to stay there, so I leave. I walk right out of there with the intention of walking home to Seattle.
I get picked up in a Suburban by a family of 3. They take me to their house and give me a nice warm place to stay for a few days. They tell me they are Mormons. There is an older man (mid 50s) and two women (one in her early 30s and one in her early 40s). The man goes out all day during those 2 days and I stay home and enjoy the company of the women, who seem to enjoy my company more than the man of the house. The women seem oppressed and come out of it when I'm around. Nevertheless they all show me the kindest hospitality and give me hope and ease my state of mind with their hospitality, beauty, and sweet caring nature. I feel like a new person.
The younger woman drops me off at my one-bedroom studio-house in Seattle. We say our goodbyes and when I have my back turned, she throws her arms around me, hugging me, wrapping her arms around my chest; she tells me she will miss me, we separate and I kiss her on the neck (only as a goodbye kiss) which she accepts and closes her eyes. She looks at me and tells me no one has ever touched her like that before. We say our goodbyes... she is gone...
After she leaves, I can't even remember her name, and we never exchanged information... I am frustrated and sad.
My mom comes by the studio and I try to tell her what happened, how I feel like a new person, but she doesn't believe me. We argue and she storms out of the studio.
My uncle Dan comes by along with my grandpa Lee. Dan brings me some firewood. We stack it in front of the studio and chat a little bit. No one seems very lively. Later on when it is just me and Dan in the studio I try to tell him how I stayed with these really nice people and had such a good time with them (I start thinking my time with those people was a dream).
He completely ignores me and starts talking about something else. I tell him that I'm going down to the library. I walk there and back in the rain.
When I return Dan goes on some tirade about God and spirits and energy while he walks around like he is looking for something. He says something I strongly disagree with and I tell him what he is saying is stupid. He is filled with rage and starts spouting craziness from his mouth. I try to leave but can't. His muscles get bigger and slivers of blackness appear around him, wind starts blowing in my house. I tell him "Calm down." He is lying on my bed, I'm lying next to him. He is quiet for a few seconds. And then he starts yelling about the government, his face turning redder and redder with veins protruding from his face and neck.
I yell "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"
At that moment I have a flashback. I had heard a news report of a father and son who were found dead in the trailer they shared. I see them alive in the trailer. The son (22 years old) has an electric drill in his hand; he is yelling at his dad saying that they will never be well until they remove the hardware that the government put in their heads. He hands his father the drill, he takes it, shaves a small portion of his head, and drills mercilessly into his own skull.
I'm back on my bed, I look over at Dan... Blood is seeping out of his mouth, the corners of his eyes, his nose...
He turns his head and sneers at me, blood in his teeth.
FEAR stabs me all over my body and I stumble out of my house in a state of shock, slamming the door behind me. I am standing on my porch, immobile, breathing deep heavy breaths. I think to myself "this is what a panic attack must be like; I am having a panic attack" I pull myself together and manage to stumble out of my yard. I am drunk with delirium and fear. I take out my phone and try dialing 911. I dial 999. I try again. 919. 119. 991. 111. Finally I get 911, slamming my fingers on the "1" button. I hear "911 Emergency, how can I help you?" in a distant female voice.
I breathe heavily into the phone "I... MY... CAN'T... UN... HU..." I can't speak.
Then I open my eyes. I'm awake. And crying.
I owe Rainer an apology. He sent this MONTHS ago but I couldn't figure out a response, couldn't see anything positive. My only excuse: the month he mailed it, every single dream sent to the World Dream Bank was a nightmare. And this is one of the darkest, because it's discouraging in so many ways at once. I think it's not just about Rainer, but how the USA is slipping, socially and politically. Consider:
I do see one hopeful note: the dream suggests finding a girl you like won't be hard--though taking action may be hard when you're depressed and worried. But you clearly wanted to get her contact info and follow through. I'd take this literally. To tweak that old Sixties proverb, "Love gets you through times of no money better than money gets you through times of no love."
Sorry, Rainer. I delayed writing about this dream because I felt uneasy telling you not to trust your own family! But when relatives convince each other to drill holes in their heads, I just can't read it any other way.
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