Intrusions From the Past

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Lately, I’ve been having strange dreams, which I consider intrusions from the past. They are bits and pieces that connect to me.

When I wake up, I have that little niggling feeling that it’s something in the past that belongs to me, though I can’t recall precisely what it is. But it’s an intrusion I can’t shrug off when I wake up, while the remnants of it are still slipping away.

Nightmares explore themes of fear, the human psyche, and the intersection of dreams with reality. Like John Lennon once said: “Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?”

The past, of course, belongs to everyone. But this dark little corner is mine, a reminder that it’s still there. It hasn’t gone anywhere. And once in a while, it taps me on the shoulder and says: “Hey, remember me?”

I do.

It has my name on it, but it might as well be someone else’s, given how little my memory recalls.

“They’ve promised that dreams can come true – but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too.” – Oscar Wilde

Isn’t it strange how that happens? Does it happen to you, too? Vague pieces of a puzzle that are like clues to your past, that then fade away like streams of smoke.

A Number That Isn’t Familiar:

In one recent dream, a phone number was an essential factor. I don’t know why that number was significant, or whose number it was.

It could have been mine at one time, I suppose. But if and when I figure it out, those numbers will probably lead to a door that I don’t particularly want opened again.

It’s something, maybe a taste you don’t like, that fills your mouth and stays there for a while.

“I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can’t build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.” – Anne Sexton

A Dream That Was Once Real:

In another dream, I see a man I was once married to, though he’s been dead for 7 years now. I thought he no longer rented space in my head. I told myself that, keep telling myself that anyway.

Somehow, he’s still there, a thin tissue layer away. There’s this sense of failure on my part. The very idea that I ever thought he was more than he actually was makes me feel foolish.

He once looked at me like I was the brightest star in his sky. I should have tried to hide behind the moon. Like an occultation, when the moon passes in front of a star and obscures it from view.

He was there for many years of my life. A long time, I suppose, to reside in someone’s life journal—enough time to cement a place there permanently. An intrusion and a time you’d rather forget, but you can’t.

It will always be looming there to remind you that you were fooled, no matter how many years have passed.

Nightmare symbolism often points to unresolved anxieties, stresses, or fears from waking life, serving as a way for the mind to process emotions, rehearse conflicts, or signal a need to confront ignored issues.

Unwelcome Intrusions:

Maybe, I tell myself, these strange, intrusive dreams are due to the approaching change of the seasons. The passing of summer into fall, when it gets dark a little earlier. No one particularly likes the darkness in other facets of life.

It’s best to slip past the shadows quietly and hopefully unnoticed. And if you’re wise, you’ll slip past it quickly.

But you can’t erase years of your life, and you wouldn’t really want to. Because that is your book and those are your chapters. And without them, you’d disappear. You wouldn’t exist at all.

Maybe it’s also the news we’re faced with every day now—the accelerating threats to our way of life that’s happening in real time. It feels like an intrusive dream, but it is undeniably true and terrifying.

It’s hard to go to sleep every night wondering what nightmare we’ll all wake up to.

Dreams, in their diverse forms, can inspire, motivate, and offer glimpses into our subconscious. Nightmares, on the other hand, can be frightening and unsettling, reflecting our fears and anxieties. However, both serve as a canvas for our inner world, whether it be a source of hope or a reflection of our deepest worries.

Just a Little Town:

Inevitably, the gauzy remnants in time seem to slide down to the little town where I spent the first 14 years of my life.

There always seems to be a spiderweb at the door, and I don’t want to stumble into it again. For me, there’s something dark about that dot on the map. However, it’s one of those places where, if you blinked, you’d miss it entirely.

I’ve tried to figure out what it is about that time in my life; if it’s a person, a hazy memory, or something my mind has invented.

It’s like a big rock that you have to get around from time to time. And if you don’t step just right, you’ll fall off a cliff into the great unknown.

These things are all familiar visitors in my dreams—unwelcome, intrusive entities.

“Of all the things you choose in life, you don’t get to choose what your nightmares are. You don’t pick them; they pick you.” – John Irving