Snapshot of My Mind At Work: Exhibit A – A Remembered Dream
I managed to hold on to a dream this morning. I don’t normally have that kind of luck. Usually when I do it’s because the dream is so bizarre that I’m still wondering where it came from. Last night’s dream was a classic example.
I had dreamed that I was at a live acrobat show with my family. We were seeing two men who were in the phase of exiting middle age but had yet to enter retirement do a high bar routine. They were a bit pudgy, but not overly so. They were also both dressed in tweed coats reminiscent of that odd university professor stereotype. I was quite entertained by the act and for reasons I can’t recall, I thought it was marvelous. My family was similarly enthralled as was the rest of the very Fifties-esque crowd.
At some point in the act, the frame work for the high bar broke and both men were killed as they were caught between the bars. I was astonished and horrified. I also thought it was very tragic in an oddly removed way.
My mother had seen a man with a hand driven drill at the base of the framework and reported him promptly after the incident. Review of camera footage held by a conveniently located camera man showed that there was indeed a man with such a device sabotaging the framework. Our villian wore a black bowler hat and had a long mustache. He also wore a tweed coat and spats. I thought it seemed stylish in a villainous kind of way.
There was the inevitable time skip at this point and I found myself in a witness chair in surprisingly empty court room. I was being examined by the legal attorneys present via a psychologist who was validating my point. After a back and forth of nondescript questions, for which the details never stuck around, he finally spoke as though he were asking the culminating question. His tone, body language and facial expression all communicated that he was making a crucial point and that the fate of everything rested on my answer.
But to my confused ears I heard: “Beep beep beepity beep. Beepity beep beep. Beep… ” etc. He had gone on in that manner for a few minutes. I know I stared with incredulity and the worried looks he exchanged with the attorneys showed they had no idea what I was thinking.
I stood and pointed at the psychologist and said, “I didn’t understand a word you said! All I heard was beep beep beep. You were speaking english a minute ago, but now it’s all beep beep. They’ve done something!” In retrospect, I have to congratulate myself for a very cliche ‘Captain Obvious’ moment.
It was determined that my mind had been tampered with by the villains so that anytime the psychologist tried to speak to me about the important point then my mind would translate it to beeps. I was very distressed and alarmed that my ability to understand another human was taken from me without my consent. I was also quite alarmed that my mind was so vulnerable. It all felt so dramatic and important.
I was then woken up by my husband who complained that I was making the weird noise I seem to make when I sleep. I suspect it may get worse when I have distressing dreams as the only times he bothers me about it results in him waking me up at those points.
I laid there and thought that the whole series of events really was quite ridiculous and overblown. There are so many logic holes in the story that they could be lined up for miles and you wouldn’t see the end of them . Such as having someone else repeat the Psychologist’s words to me since they were unaffected by my ‘brainwashing’.
In the end, I’ve simply chalked the whole thing up to my rather new fear of ‘brain invasion’. It’s a minor illogical fear that I don’t spend much time fussing over. Though I would like to point out that you still couldn’t pay me to go see Inception.
I’ve been informed by several parties (all of whom seem to have a vendetta against my taste in movies) that it’s not really about brain invasion and my worry is pointless. They seemed to miss the memo when I point out that it doesn’t have to be about brain invasion but that the possibility of entering someone else’s mind via dreams or what have you is enough regardless of the movie’s plot, point, details and messages (meta or stated).
They also seemed to miss the memo that telling me to ‘not worry’ about something I’m anxious over only frustrates and annoys me and serves no function in ending my worry. I suspect they don’t really want to solve my anxiety so much as just shut me up. And as annoying as I’m probably being with my fussing, would it really hurt them to just say that they don’t want to hear it instead of pretending to solve it?
And it appears that I have digressed, sort of. I have long acknowledged that I can and do face a number of my anxieties in my dreams. Most of them I never remember. Occasionally though, I’ll get the oddball like this one that leaves me bouncing between giggles and disbelief. Truthfully, I would state that the progressive timeline in today’s dream was an improvement over post apocalyptic New York covered in cereal boxes and laundry baskets or the showdown between the Ninja Turtles and Wayne Gretzky. That and those spats did look very stylish.