The Re-Occurring Dream

Dreams are funny things. I'm not talking about "dreams" as in our aspirations, but the left over synaptic firing that happens when we close our eyes at night. I always remember my dreams. At least the gist of them. I know a lot of people who never or rarely remember them. I feel sorry for them. I also have a strange connection with my sleeping universe in that I can wake myself up from dreams. This is a good or bad thing depending on how you look at it.
If the dream is really a nightmare, it's a good thing. I once dreamt I was being chopped up, or was about to be, by an elderly woman wielding a chainsaw. She had already cut up everyone else in the room, and by that I mean a 'lover' of sorts that I had somehow entangled myself with.  I was avoiding this fate by pretending I was dead. In a snap second I decided I had to get out of there and the move had to move fast to make it past her. I had blood and human tissue splatter all over and looked up to see her standing in a doorway with what I am assuming was maniacal laughter- at least that's how I imagined any words coming out of her mouth- and I JUMP as high as I can, some how jumping perfectly between the doorway and the chainsaw that is flying around. Then I realize, this is not possible stupid. Wake up. and I wake up. I'm a little scared so I call for my dog to come and sit near me. Then I rub my eyes and check my legs for giant cuts, get a glass of water and go back to bed. What's funny is the "not possible" element was me jumping between the doorway and the chainsaw- not the whole dream.

Now if the dream is really a good dream, I also wake myself in the same sort of state of disbelief. I once dreamt I was having a typical day, wandering the streets of some made-up mental city that was in part not made up- it had elements of places I've been just all combined plus some things I'd like to see in those places all combined into the perfect 'reality'. I run into some friends and we make plans to meet up later at a concert and have a few drinks. I continue my wandering and find my as-of-yet-met-in-my-waking-life- human that I am apparently engaged in a long term affectionate, but cheating relationship with. We decide we're going to finally leave our currently disgruntled partners. Insert faery tale like kiss...So I'm touched, and it's finally going to be okay, and I can stop lying and blah blah... then I say, this isn't real stupid. Wake up. I'm not condoning cheating here- I'm not doing it in my waking life or anything- I don't do that. It was that weird notion that whatever we had been through (and isn't it funny in dreams how there is a back story that is clear in the dream but makes no sense when you wake up), it was finally going to be a success and obviously from that perspective we were like Romeo and Juliet more or less except fate wasn't going to throw the Death card at us. Woohoo love and stuff. So when I wake up from this I'm disappointed that I didn't get to have the concert with my friends nor am I about to make out with the hottest person alive. Nope, just me, hugging my pillow and swallowing a motrin with a glass of water.

Everyone has them. At least one. I have two re-occurring dreams, or at least themes in dreams. Neither ever make sense and almost always end up the same. Sometimes they are ever-so-slightly different enough to fool me into thinking it's a different dream. Then comes the punch line.
The first one:

Jumping turned flying. Typically, some sort of small animal tells me to jump and reach the sky or jump up and get something from a tree. I always meet the animal, and lets call it a rabbit, because usually it is one, with disbelief. I can't jump. I'm afraid of heights. These are truths. I can't jump higher than a tree! I certainly can't fly and I don't really want to: I like the Earth. I don't like looking down at it in microscopic form. The urging of this animal to do this compels me to give it a try so I start jumping. Each jump gets more and more weightless until finally, I'm sort of floating. Then I realize I can't get back down. This is met with horror. It's also met with a small degree of excitement because I feel like I've mastered the art of weightlessness and nothing can really touch or catch me. I can't really tell what I want to do. I also realize at this point that this has happened before and I knew it was going to happen again- it's an unnatural and hidden talent of mine: I can defy gravity. I hate it in many ways because I really am afraid of heights and although I have faith in my ability once I'm up there, I long to be on the ground. Then it happens wake up stupid, you don't have to be afraid because you're dreaming and this is impossible. I have twists on this dream where I see a friend and show them how to do it. What's funny is I'm terrified and usually the friend really wants to know how so to hide my fear and to get someone up there performing this unnatural talent, I tell them to start jumping too and eventually we're floating around like we're in the bubbles in Wonka's factory. It's fun then, and sometimes I even fly to a large tower where I get a glass of wine, sit on the air as if I'm in a chair and sip it with who ever my partner in crime is. That's the wake up stupid part. Sometimes I can't show them how to jump right so they never can fly and I get really sad that I'm stuck up there forever, alone and without them. Another twist is suddenly I start tumbling to the ground at increasing speed. Just before I hit the bottom I bounce back up higher than ever and I start vomiting. Then I start choking on my vomit. Then comes the waking up part because I realize I'm not actually choking but actually have swallowed a feather from my pillow.Weird I know. I've never bothered looking this up because I'm afraid it means I need therapy.

The other dream is less clear because I don't think I play myself in this dream but more like different versions of myself. It changes from small me to adult me. I've had this dream as long as I can remember. I think it is why I've never liked to swim- diving into water especially annoys me and has never seemed fun to me at all. Gym class was my bane in grade school during swim time. I hated it. I could swim but pretended I couldn't just so I didn't have to jump into water that was above my head. Anyway, back to the dream. It always starts out with me in a car seat so I assume I am a small child. I'm in a car seat and it's winter. I'm riding in the car with my parents in the front and we are about to go over this bridge near my Aunt Carol's house. We are going home. The bridge is the sort that makes the whir sound from the car tires hitting it and I'm fairly sure it's metal, the whole thing including the road. Just as we turn to go on the bridge the car goes careening into the river. I'm stuck in the car seat and the car is filling up with water.  My parents have disappeared. My lungs ache and I am about to die from drowning. a few fish swim by... I notice they are happy, just swimming and wonder why I can't just swim away.
Suddenly I realize I have a knife and cut myself free. This wasn't an accident: I'm actually being followed by some evil enemy although it's more like a military and I'm more like an assassin that has information they want. I have to find my parents. They took them. I don't really think about the fact that I was a little kid 10 seconds ago and now I'm an adult again. A long adventure persists wherein I'm on the run. Sometimes I can't run and I keep falling only to look behind me and see a bus about to run me over so I roll to the side in the nick of time. Sometimes I'm hiding behind a wall of sandbags and shooting at them- maybe with a gun but usually with a bow and arrow. So I'm clearly an antiquated spy. Eventually I find my parents and run up to my father to tell him I'm being followed. This part never changes: He shoots me in the back of the head as I turn to look for my mother. Sometimes I say to myself, this has happened before, this is the ___ time he's shot you. My neck gets hot and my head starts to hurt. I run for my mother who is smoking a cigarette and tells me to take a shower because she can't take me to the doctor all filthy and covered in blood. I start to panic because it doesn't make sense. I try to gauge the extent of my injuries so I make the mistake of touching the back of my head and note a gaping hole and clumps of hair. The bullet pops out. It's actually a BB. I am less worried now- at least it wasn't a shot gun shell. I start trying to wash my neck and face and then it happens you are stupid. This is a dream. Wake up. When I wake up my face is usually wet from drool. Yes, gross I know but that's the truth. Blood on my face in a dream is drool in real life. I'm really upset at my father typically, for shooting me. I'm really pissed off at my mother for telling me to shower when I am missing part of my head. Then I'm just happy it's just the damn dream. I wash my face, drink a glass of water and go back to bed. The other possible way it works out is I just sit there after my father shoots me and wait to die. Yeah, dismal I know. But it's strange, he walks away apologizing and I pick up a toad and look at it while waiting to die. I don't do anything but sit there. Eventually I realize this can't be real because I'd be dead already: I've been bleeding like a sieve and it's all over everything. Wake up idiot. You're dreaming again. 
I haven't looked this up either because I'm sure Jung would say it points to parental issues: like we don't all have those.

What I have to wonder is how many people actually have these dreams? You know, re-occurring ones. If I can tell myself to wake up, why can't I change the outcome? I'll take any suggestions as to these answers and would love to hear your stories if you have any... until then, I'm taking a nap and hoping for a trip to a castle with a jester and all...

Image no. 1: from Mr. Preising's Dream Views Blogspot, 2010
Image no. 2: Pauline McGee, 1987