I dreamed someone, who usually smiles, didn't smile. He looked at me through those empty eye-sockets, tiny white dots peering from their darkness. "Why are you doing this?" he asked over and over.
My body was shaking. Perhaps in rage, perhaps in fear. Maybe in stupor.
"Stop!" I heard behind me, but it was that person's voice. Many echoes followed. They became so loud, I woke up with a deafened sense of hearing.
I woke from some interesting dreams.
In the first, a man confronted me because he did not like the flirtatious way I spoke with his woman. I felt this man was an asshole, and I had no respect for him. I tried to manipulate him with various statements of denial, but he grew angry and began interrupting me. The interruptions annoyed me, and I told him to let me finish what I was saying, which he would not do. The man was physically imposing and looked on the verge of attacking me, so I let him speak. He forbade me to speak to his woman anymore, and I responded that he has no say in what I can or cannot do.
Physical violence was about to erupt, when suddenly the man's family came in, and the man's demeanor changed. He became completely submissive. I stood up and grabbed him by the neck and threw him down on a kitchen table and held him there. Easily he could have broken free but was suddenly weak. I told him that what happens between his woman and I was little to me compared to the beating I would give him the next time I seen him. At that point I went home and began consuming calories and reading up on dieting to bulk up (I actually have been doing this), and felt pretty determined to pulverize this man after I got into shape.
I think the exact moment I snapped is when he interrupted me and forced his own dialogue over mine, but I realized how little I could do without being on the losing-end of a one-sided fight. It was the anger of being forcibly subjugated to another's will.
These people lived a while away, and after removed from the situation, I was back to my placid self. I was walking behind a church, and a car pulled up to me. In it was some old friends of mine (one who is now dead), and they asked me if I would dress in some beggar clothes as part of their school psychology project. They told me they wanted me to ask for change, and for those who refused, to be angry and speak of God and his virtues.
I went around a shelter of sorts, and began to meekly beg people for money with this aluminum pan I held while wearing a soiled, hooded tunic. For whatever reason, almost everyone in this shelter looked like a hipster. I tried to walk with an ever-slight stumble, moved timidly, and spoke as a defeated man would to multiple people. I was usually turned down, but some folks were rather generous, and I had to tell them to stop giving me money, and that I was only conducting an experiment. I asked if they wanted back the money they had given to me, but they refused.
There was a gay couple who seemed very interested in helping me out, and they appeared to feel mild and momentary discomfort about my perceived condition. I thanked them repeatedly for the few dollars they gave me, and I noticed a bunch of white paper boxes on the floor on my way out, and heard one of them say something like "no, that's the Klonopin box." I began seeing these boxes everywhere in the shelter, and realized these people were getting either free or reduced-price medications.
With some people I approached who would not give me money, I did remember to angrily cite Christian morals, but no one minds were changed by my high-horse rhetoric. With other people I forgot to emulate the body language of a beggar, and would laugh with the people afterward about the way I approached them, and explained what I was really doing.
I felt it was time to go, but I traveled back downstairs. The gay couple's door was wide open, but no one inside their room. I found their box of Klonopin (there must have been hundreds inside), and went up to the bathroom with it. Since there were so many different people and many of these white boxes, I figured I should be able to get to the bathroom upstairs to figure out how to best get out of the building with them. I took the bag the pills were sealed in and put it between my jeans and stomach, dissembled the box and set it into the trash, and then walked out of the building, with a decently-filled beggars pan in hand.
Next, I was at a friends, with the Klonopin still. I did not tell him what happened. I watched him the moment that he drifted to sleep, and wondered whether or not I should have stolen those pills. The fact that the people I stolen them from had donated money to what they thought was a homeless man made me feel even more malicious. I decided something along the lines of "what is done is done," and prepared to head home. I then woke up.
i was sitting by the path near where i used to live, and a woman walking her dog came walking by, and the dog pooped right next to me so she picked the poop up with a tissue, and then handed it to me. i took the poop along with the ball of poop i was already holding, and quickly set it down cause it was nasty and squishy. but the woman didn't like that so she flung three more balls of poop at my face, and i screamed "what the fuck" and came abruptly awake. then i couldn't get back to sleep so i got out of bed and typed this at 5 in the morning. i'm tired
I had a weird dream the other night,
I was walking down a sidewalk with a friend and suddenly he had a huge urge to piss. He started peeing right there like it was nodoby's business and I said I'd call the cops on him, jokingly. I had barely finished saying that when a police car stopped right next to us and two angry cops came out. They started asking my friend what the fuck he was doing in a very agressive manner.
My friend didn't even stop peeing, he just turned his head, looked at the cops and started laughing. "Shut the fuck up, dude" he said. I was afraid of getting into trouble so I walked off. I went around the block and back to where my friend was and he was STILL peeing and laughing at the angry cops, who were shouting insults at him. That's it, that's the whole dream.
In the dream I was in a grassy field at a forest side. The forest was on the left. On the right as well as in front of me and behind me the field was continuing without any change of the environment. Not far on the right there was a medium-height wire fence with barbed wire topping.
It seemed to be the end of the summer as the flora was still flourishing; the sun was shining heavily, giving a grey shade to all the things. The atmosphere was somewhat dull and sleepy. Perhaps a siesta time.
As I walked, I noticed a few buffalos closer to the forest. They were peacefully munching grass or just walking around. Then I noticed a pack of predators also walking closer to the fence. The pack consisted of a lion, a lioness and a cheetah. I was still walking to them but I turned my head back (perhaps to see if there were any more animals behind me) and saw a few people, whom were walking alongside me. They were dressed as safari tourists and this whole place started to seem like a “Safari gone wrong†(perhaps this assumption influenced the following course of the dream). My companions followed me regardless of the animals in front. Both parties haven’t changed their route and we went past each other so close, that I could have been easily hit by a wagging tail of one of the animals. It seemed strange to me, so after a few more steps I looked back again and saw the animals now following us.
I proceeded walking slowly towards the fence, looking back every now and then. The tourists froze and the big cats were approaching them. I was not concerned about them, though. I climbed the fence, somehow got past the barbed wire and got on the other side. Still, there was a black puma there with me. It tried to sample my flesh, but I kicked it in the head (or did some other thing, I did not pay much attention to that). The puma then climbed the fence and started munching the tourists with the rest of this strange pack.
I spent a brief moment watching the scene. It did not evoke any emotion and I just walked towards a wire tower nearby, made of two tall blocks which were made of concrete. I climbed it, held onto some wires (again wires); spent a few seconds enjoying the breeze. Afterwards, I deducted that I was safe there since no animal could climb to reach me and started looking around. There were more predator gatherings here and there, some munched on tourists, and others ate random animals. The grounds bellow each gathering was very visibly covered in blood.
Being there, I figured rescue helicopters should appear. Soon after that I saw one landing not so far from me. I was okay with that as I thought that they must have seen me and conducted that I am safe there, whereas others bellow were in a more urgent need of help.
After a while a helicopter approached me too. I was wondering how they were going to grab me. I felt a little anxious about grabbing onto the ladder and hoped a rescue man/woman would go down, strap and take me up himself/herself. The situation was completely different.
The helicopter provided some sort of a carousel. Suddenly, I have noticed that there was a platform on the wire tower and that there was another platform near it (it seemed to be floating on air, but it seemed normal at the time). On the platform there was another helicopter.
I and a few members of a rescue team used the carousel to get onto the other platform whilst listening to some waltz and moving to the tune. There I got into the helicopter and soon we flew to the next dream.
---
During the whole event I was not scared at all; the feeling of sleepiness and heavy air remained the whole time. I did not perceive the mentioned ferocious animals as a threat, even when they munched the other people. They were just animals, doing their thing and I was okay with that. I was not interested in the people in the slightest, did not even wonder whom they are or why are they following me. It would seem they thought it was a wise idea to follow me for some reason. I was glad, though, when they became the bait and distracted the cats from me.
Whilst analyzing and typing the dream I remembered the beach scene from the book “le Straniero†by Albert Camus and the atmosphere seemed fairly similar. Herbert George Wells' "The Island of Doctor Moreau" also came to mind.
Environment: a field near a forest.
Time of the year: late summer.
Atmosphere: dulling hot, sleepy, greyish.
My emotions: mild curiosity, sleepiness.
Happening: safari gone wrong, animals munching other animals (people are animals).
Ending: I was rescued in some truly obscure way.
The compulsion doesn't seem like such a negative thing if you can temper it by learning to accept setbacks and failures, and not let it set the bar unreasonably high...but you're already figuring out how to handle that. It does seem like a positive thing for you...as long as you're able to keep it at a healthy level, and it sounds to me like you've been figuring out how to do that. The need to accomplish is stronger in some than in others. Many great leaders and entrepreneurs have had very similar compulsions to the one that you have.
Yeah it fits.
"If your compulsion causes you to feel that way sometimes, I would say that makes sense."
Completely, I've always have and still do feel like I'm chained to that urge to get better. That inner critic is always there, even though I realize it's demands are completely unrealistic at times and even if I understand it to just be the main delusion of covert narcissism it doesn't help. As imaginary and fictitious as it is, it still yields very real consequences when those expectations aren't met. Fits of anxiety, depression, anger and worthlessness all set in and depending on the severity of the failure it can last weeks.
I fought it for some time and even reached a point of stability where I can deal with those effects, there's been nothing that stops them from coming or that gets rid of that demanding voice. Instead of being counter productive I've been going along with it and since have accomplished a lot of things, infantry school being one and ending stalking being the biggest. I've learned to enjoy it and honestly love that part of me, despite it being nothing but a manifestation of insecurity. It drives me harder than I alone could and I hope it takes me to where I want to be in life.
The only downfall is that the expectations dont stop, the bar always rises. It rose one point to where near perfection was expected in all my activities to feel sane(compulsively, no different than OCD), it wasnt too long after that before it drove me into a nervous breakdown. I've since have been pulling back on it, monitoring and slowing how fast that bar rises and finding mental excuses that exclude certain aspects of my life from needed to be perfected. It's a fun ride honestly and a neat little mental construct actually, I know I'll have to tear it down eventually or there'll never be a top or ceiling in my life where I can lounge back and relax.
If I had to guess, it would be the need inside of you to move forward. The impression I have of your drive to self-improve or achieve is that it is more than a desire. It seems like a strong compulsion which grips your mind. I imagine that there would be some internal pressure created by that compulsion. Or am I totally wrong?
"They always outnumber me or it's one single shadow that is exponentially larger than me, maybe implying I feel helpless?"
If your compulsion causes you to feel that way sometimes, I would say that makes sense. Perhaps the shadows represent a fear of failure, or an overwhelming pressure to achieve, or maybe both? Whatever is driving you, I think there is an anxiety that fuels it, and the shadows represent that anxiety.
i dreamed i had run away from home again. i wandered through the city aimlessly, running in and out of buildings and whizzing through the subway. then i decided that i should get out of the city since that's where they would be looking for me, so i walked north out into the country, going alongside the river. as i walked i realized that they would always find me no matter where i went, so i decided that i should just kill myself, and decided to lay on the train tracks when the train came. but no train came, and i kept walking, and then they found me on the bank of the river, my parents and a couple other people made me stand there with them. and i wanted to run off but i thought they would just catch me so i stayed there. then my dad and this other guy went down to where my boat was and said that they would go on an expedition with me, and i didn't want them there so i put them in the boat that was tied to the back of the main boat. then we went out into the river, and i flew out of the boat along with my partner who i had been traveling with, and he and i flew along under the columns of this bridge that were poking out of the water. and submechanophobia kicked in and i was terrified, i zigzagged among the endless columns as fast as was humanly possible, trying to get out into the open water. then i got out, and when i looked behind me i panicked, i was screaming because the columns and the water scared me so much and then i woke up.
then when i opened my eyes and saw my door in front of me i freaked the fuck out because i didn't know what it was, and then i realized i was laying the wrong way in bed and it was just my door lol. happens a lot