Oddly enough, those two themes are related. Ask Terry.
Anyhoo.
I've been really busy feeling sorry for myself. My aching back from sleepless nights brought on by nightmares. My mouth wants to be crunching, munching or slurping on a snack but I've cleaned the nacho dip and candy out of my kitchen and replaced it with Trader Joe's healthy alternatives, most of which you must plug your nose and swallow as fast as possible. Ok it's not that bad, and it's not that I'm even craving the bad stuff but that, like a smoker I suppose, I want that hand to mouth exercise and it's just not the same with cauliflower and hummus.
The nightmares were throwing me for a bit, but I realized that it's just the emotional cycle of deployment - again. When Terry left the first time, I resolved to thrive. I was going to tackle ambitious writing projects, train for a marathon, and volunteer with family readiness groups. (Some, quit, and did, respectively.) But the nightmares crept in and stole many hours of my sleep by waking me up in sweat and scaring me from closing my eyes again lest I return to the scene of the crime.
Nine months later, it's just as frustrating to wake up cold and clammy, but at least I know why. And the thing is not all of the dreams are Terry-related. The last one was (Canary, forgot to write you about this) about this guy from my high school who dated a friend of mine and turned into a stalker after graduation. In reality he didn't go to our reunion, which we were both relieved about, but he showed up in my dreams where he stalked me, followed me home one day and broke into my house. I call 911 and I get an answering machine. I dial again and again and again. Finally I pull out my gun and the police race up to my house just in time to see me shoot him. Pleasant.
I did have one war related dream. Terry was wounded and I went to Iraq for him, to finish his tour. I came home wounded in three places, my stomach, right leg and right arm. Each 'wound' was two criss crossed scars. Bizarro.
Anyway, enough about that. Oh wait one last thing. Reader's Digest featured an article about dreams and while it was better than Newsweek's pathetic attempt to convey all the "BREAKING NEWS ON THE MEANING OF YOUR DREAMS" (desperate bait and switch I thought, after reading the article) it didn't give me what I wanted, but told the plain old truth. There is no canned symbolism in dreams, but each symbol or recurring color theme has a meaning unique to the dreamer. You have to track your dreams to figure out what symbols may mean to you. Of course there was the usual yadda, yadda, yadda on solving a problem by focusing on it before sleep. Also helpful was it's sidebar on how to "upgrade" your dreams, but it bordered on teaching how to cheat on your spouse in your subconscious. Interesting...
Ok, done with that topic. Moving on.
The Olympics. Terry loves the Olympics. I swear sometimes he is a poster boy for the Army. He is your all-American, Old Glory flyin', National Anthem cryin', free speech believing, wanna prosecute the bad guys and put 'em in jail, family loving, Go AMERICA, TEAM AMERICA (loves the movie, which shows he can laugh at himself too) kind of guy. So every time the five coloful rings are emblazoned over NBC's logo, we watch the Olympics. (And with Valentines Day tomorrow and the Olympics heating up, I miss him a lot right now.)
I've tried to watch a couple of events and happened to catch the Flying Tomato's gold medal ceremony. (Some guy who won the gold in the half-pipe.) Having been strapped to a snowboard, dragged up a mountain twice by my husband and shoved down the diamond run by his overconfidence in me only to be lapped twice by a four-year-old and carried down by the ski patrol, which was more frightening than just toughing out the run myself, I can appreciate a talented boarder. But I can better appreciate a man who cries.
This fiery red headed kid who is worth more than my entire extended families' net worth, was choking up during the national anthem - fighting it. And it made me wonder, if a man can't cry unabashedly during the national anthem at his OWN gold medal ceremony then when can he?
I can name three. Tell me if you agree:
1) At birth - no, not his childrens', his own.
2) On Oprah
3) Winning the Oscar, but then he's just acting so I'm not sure if that counts.
WDYT?
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10 comments:
Hmm, well, the dream thing really depends on your POV. Jungians believe that our unconscious recognizes cultural archetypes which appear in our dreams and do have some universal meaning. Freudians believe everything is a phallic symbol. I don't suppose one has to be contraindicative of the other, no? Seriously, the best book on this topic is "Women Who Run with the Wolves." But only if you like serious dream analysis.
Hang in there, kiddo.
Sorry to hear about the nightmares...we've been watching the Olympics, too, and caught "the Flying Tomato's" run on the half-pipe. But we didn't catch the ceremony, for some reason. I wonder if it's hardwired into men's systems to withhold emotion. Anyway, take care of yourself.
Wow, I must sound really badly on a blog. I'm fine! What I really need is to laugh or have a big girls night out party.
I think the conversation started in my head when I read that article on dreams. I think dreams are fascinating and I'm still trying to harness my dreams to make me a fabulous, rich writer!!! :)
When I accepted my Oscar on Oprah as my children were being born, I cried like a baby.
I think my husband would deny even crying at his own birth, LOL.
As for the dreams, I love to analyze them. Not to say I do it correctly, but it is fun. A long time ago I used to have bad dreams until I learned while dreaming that I am in control of them. Now if something goes wrong in one of my dreams, I stop the dream and 'fix' it to however I want it to be. I don't know how I learned to do that, I just do. Strange, huh? But I am EVER so grateful!
That's so funny you say that. In the RD article, they said you could control yourself in your dreams. I'll have to try that...
I do remember one time I KNEW I was dreaming IN my dream. I was seeing family member that I don't know very well and I was telling myself "it's not real, he's not there it's just a dream" IN my dream. How weird is that?
Okay Monique....what does it mean when you DON'T dream at all. I tend to think maybe it means that I have a brain that doesn't have enough activity...hmmm....makes me wonder....oh well, not going to think about that one too long. I was laughing about the whole Flying Tomato thing....Joel is so into these types of sports and he had seen him compete in some competition before the Olympics (X-treme Sports????). So anyway, he requested as he was going to bed that I record the Olympics and make sure to get the Shaun White guy on it. I think that I am raising an all AMERICAN without even trying. Sometimes it just is in their blood...hee hee. Anyway, Joel was very impressed with the guys tears and said, "mom, that's so cool he is crying....he worked really hard to get that".....I say to myself....how did a 8 year old boy come up with that kind of a statement. God is good. Thinking of you and praying for you.
MA:
I was always told that we always dream but that we just don't remember our dreams. Maybe you don't have a lot of subconcious problems to purge at night :) That's a good thing.
I hope Joel DOES go to the Olympics one day. We'll go and cheer him on! ;)
I dream a lot here, but not the normal kind; but more of a half awake half sleeping dream where you know you are in your bed but your mind is in a firefight. Lately I have been dreaming I get in a airplane crash on the way home right before landing in America, don't worry I survive - wow that would suck. Back in the 80s a unit from the 82nd Airborne crashed on the way home from a deployment and killed everybody.
Love you hope your future dreams of me here are of reality (the streets are paved with chocolate and the children have gumdrop smiles (America &*$% ya).
TEAM AMERICA BABY! :)
xoxo to Terry.
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