This was supposed to be an Alaska post, but it took a turn for the strange.

Last night I dreamt of tidal waves. Three times actually. I woke up miserable and anxious each time only to fall back asleep and have the dream again, but worse. At first it was just Sergio and me and some unidentifiable friends. Stressful but not so bad because I didn’t feel bad just totally running away to a conveniently safe building without those pesky friends. Sergio, however, stayed outside for way too long to watch the mammoth certain death tidal wave. I was so mad at him. God, he can be such an asshole in my dreams!
When I half woke up from that dream I was so happy that we didn’t have Rolo with us because I didn’t know that I would have been able to keep her safe. Of course who showed up in the second dream? Not just Rolo! Oh no! Both my nieces and nephew as well. Freakin’ brats.
By the third dream the buildings were all torn down, the beach was so crowded as to be impossible to navigate and my whole darn family was there in theory. I couldn’t FIND them all, such is the nature of dreams about tidal waves, but I knew they were there for me to collect and keep safe.
I’m no mystic or even a very convincing hippie, but I know the basic meaning of all dream symbols boils down to ANXIETY. I don’t put much more stock in dreams than that. I know the anxiety thing is true though, even if there is nothing to be anxious about. And don’t worry, there is nothing to be anxious about! My brain is just now fully processing the move to Alaska with all the walking, high prices, and no jobiness of it all. Let’s take those issues one by one so I can assure you that all is well.
1. Walking everywhere: First of all, is healthy for me. Second of all, nothing is really very far away at all. Third, taxis are literally everywhere! Finally, I forget what I intended for the last one, but know that there was a fourth.
2. High prices: Amazon Prime membership. I have some moral issues being a sudden Amazon devotee, but it’s free shipping to Alaska. We’re probably coming out ahead of what we were doing in Arkansas.
3. No job for me: It doesn’t actually hurt us financially. It won’t help us for me to be unemployed, but it won’t hurt us at all. I just NEED to work. I suck at staying home.
My brain has so much fun with me. It likes to let me know I’m subconsciously nervous without offering any solution. Here’s an example of how my brain works. “Hey Dawn, I think maybe you’re insecure right now! Here’s a dream of your brother being chased by a hammerhead shark! You should really help him. Here’s something to help you. Ha! No, it’s a weight on your feet!” Or, “Hey Dawn, I know you have something stressful and important coming up. Let me gift you this dream about tsunamis for six days in a row! Did it help. Did it?”
I’ve always processed anxiety in this way. I’m not exaggerating much at all when I say that I dreamt of being chased by sea creatures (and ultimately drowning) every. single. night. of. seventh. grade. Puberty had bestowed all the wrong things on me and a serious lack of the right things. Proof:


(And this is the picture I’m willing to show! My family can attest that there are three years of school photos that are just not discussed in our house. Also, this is 8th grade graduation. I had both grown into myself a bit and gained some self-confidence. Seriously.)
(And no, I’m not fishing for retroactive compliments that I was adorable or whatever. That’s what we as adults can see in all kids. It’s really about the feeling this picture invokes for me. What you can’t see are the pit stains from the nerves of just being in public, the acne, the glasses I had just replaced with contacts, the inability to uncross my arms for more than a few seconds at a time, the clumsy sarcasm I had developed as a defense mechanism, and so on.)

So I dreamt of whales. Sharks. Even swimming elephants? Not one of those dreams helped me to talk to my crush, speak in front of the class without a panic attack, or stand up to my bully. I did however have a pretty fantastic conversation in my dreams once with a really intellectual shark. He had a British accent. And glasses. He ate me at the end. He had a really compelling argument for why it made sense to do so.

6 thoughts on “This was supposed to be an Alaska post, but it took a turn for the strange.

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