So the basement’s done. I’ll give a full account of today’s proceedings tomorrow, when I upload the gallery of before and after pictures. It was a big hit, though, and everyone loves it. Even another family came over to see it before my parents came home and they liked it. Hurrah, I can still pick out colors! 🙂 Hehe.
I wasn’t even going to blog tonight, but I happened to see something that I thought might prove interesting on the AOL welcome screen, and sure enough it to be useful. About six or so months ago I had a really disturbing dream and I’ve been trying to find something that might explain why I had the dream. Normally I’m not into that sort of thing. I usually believe my dreams stem from what I watched on TV, what I’m currently busy thinking about, and only sometimes do they provide insight into my emotional state. But only sometimes. Most of the time my dreams are too stupid to say anything about my psyche.
Anyway, so this dream I had. I remember it so vividly and I really wish I could draw well enough to try and get this image out of my head. During the entire night’s dream I was simply staring into a mirror, looking back at myself. Although what I saw was recognizably my face, I was horribly disfigured. And I mean *horribly*. I’ve seen some pretty awful disfigurements, and this one topped them all. Teeth showing, skin burned beyond recognition, an eye missing, hair gone except a few strands; I’m telling you, it was really bad. It was so bad I remember feeling my eyes burn from the hideousness of it all, and I tried desperately to wake myself up just so I could quit looking at it.
I finally did force myself awake. When I woke up, though, the image wouldn’t leave. I could still see it just as clearly in my mind’s eye. My heart was pounding, I couldn’t slow my breathing down. I was seriously frightened. I kept thinking, ‘Does this mean I’m vain?’ or ‘Is this a reminder that the toe could be just the beginning, and that all those jokes about accidents coming in threes could be true?’ Those thoughts may seem strange, but when your dreams force you to wake up at four in the morning, then you can talk about me being strange and I’ll put faith in your comments.
I’ve never forgotten that dream, but I’ve tried to. I had given up trying to find meaning in it and opted for trying to erase that image of myself. But about two months ago I was talking to a friend and the topic wound itself around to dream interpretations. I can’t even remember why. My dream resurfaced in my mind and I tried to look for something in a dream dictionary that could explain disfigurement. I couldn’t find anything, though. But, I found something tonight.
“We are used to the modern proverb “it’s all screwed up” as a metaphor for situations and relationships that fail to meet our expectations. Dreams of this nature often reflect our verbalization of people or things that fail to fulfill our needs. How many disfigured people or objects you encounter in your dream is an indication of what facets of your life are not meeting your expectations. Can you ascertain how the object or person came to be disfigured?
Does the disfigured object continue to work, or does the disfigured person seem unaware of what you are seeing?”
So, the number of disfigured people: One. One facet of my life that doesn’t fit my needs. Hmm. Food for thought. But how to ascertain how the person became disfigured, no idea. If I were that horribly disfigured, there’d be no way for me to be alive. Car accident? Burns? No, it was more than that.
But most importantly, I think, was I unaware of what I was seeing? I most certainly was aware of it, and it frightened me. It still kind of does. I can’t think of a single thing that I could have seen on television, or could have possibly been thinking about that could have lead to that dream. Nothing. Completely out of the blue, and it’s still just as vivid in my mind as the night I dreamt it. I think it’s one of those one-in-a-million emotional sign dreams, but I’m still not sure what it means. Am I vain? I don’t think so. As of right now my hair is unkempt, I’m wearing completely unflattering pajamas, but I don’t care. Am I worried I’ll become vain? No. Am I afraid of disfigurement? Yes, but who isn’t?
It’s all so confusing and I wish I had more clues to go on. I wish I would have smashed the mirror, walked away, or gone in search of clues. Now all I’m left with is that horrible image, and this one entry from some strange dream dictionary that’s probably been dreamt up by the same wackos who write the rest of the rubbish on AOL’s Women’s channel. 🙂