Possessed

Twice now I have dreamed that I am possessed by a demon, and I’m read to admit that my subconscious has successfully drawn my attention.

The other night was nice and metaphorical.  I dreamed of a room full of people, mostly those I knew, opening their chests (bloodlessly, thankfully) and delighting at the wonders they saw inside themselves.  They showed one another, then laughed and opened themselves again and again and again.  I stood in the corner, huddling and scared.  An angel came to me and asked me why I wasn’t joining in with the others.  I hunched further over myself, shook my head, then spelled, in the air, "demin."  The misspelling was deliberate.  If I spelled it correctly, I feared I would call it out.

That dream I was willing to write off as a side affect of talk therapy. It made sense to me, so I considered it and what my possible demons could be, metaphorically of course.  I figured, too, that since I’d just finished editing and posting a big story full of demons and possession that this was an easy grab for the subconscious, and I left it at that. 

I dreamed of demons again last night, and now I’m just plain confused.  This time I was going to the chiropractor, the one I see in real life.  The office was dream-mangled, and the rooms were labyrinthine and dark.  I didn’t notice, however, and arrived describing my neck pain to the doctor–this would be the neck pain that had been keeping me up all night and making my right hand fall asleep.  It’s been, lately, worse than it’s ever been, and it’s irritating me.  I explained it to him, and he nodded, and led me back to some room in the back of the building.  Some assistant (who is not there in real life) came and made up a mattress on the floor, and he had me lie down.  I just lay there for a long time, and he spoke softly, of things I don’t remember.  I was very tired, and I’d drifted back to that room, and now I lay there dazed and floating.  After several minutes, he spoke.

"Good.  I think you’re safe now.  You went too close to a meteor there for a minute, and it tried to grab you."

I remember being puzzled.  Meteors?  Really?  This is a hazard?  How do you tell?  I wanted to ask the questions, but I was still tired and dizzy, so I just sort of frowned.  He did a few procedures, the particulars of which are lost to me in the fuzziness of the dream, but what I remember is looking at this dish-like thing where two little globby monsters appeared, one pink and one brown.  "These were inside you," he said.  I remember staring at them, disgusted and horrified.  I felt violated.  Those had been inside of me?  Where?  How?  Why?  And I still felt dizzy, so I worried there were more.

The dream deteriorated into complete rather than just partial nonsense at this point: they served me lunch on a dish I’d forgotten to rinse, I milled around the halls of my own home only to land back at the front desk, and there was just general stuff, nothing that strikes me or floats to the top.  But I keep thinking of those demons on the plate, the casualty of getting "too close to a meteor."  

You can’t have my kind of imagination and take your dreams literally. You just can’t.  But this is twice in the span of a week that my subconscious has identified that I am harboring alien particles.  I’m not sure what to do with this, frankly.  Get an MRI of the nerve cluster that affects that arm at C7/C8?  How?  Tell my doctor that I keep dreaming of demons living inside me?  There’s no clue as to the chiropractor’s procedure, either.  I just laid there on the mattress on the floor and was dazed.  And more importantly, I hadn’t felt like that was all.  The dream ended with me in a confused panic.

I have no answers.  I’ll probably play with runes and cards later this morning, because I’m That Way, but I don’t expect to actually learn anything I can use.  I suppose the only thing to do is to keep listening to my subconscious, and maybe to drop an autowriting/journal note to my celestial steering company and let them know BY THE WAY, THAT DOESN’T INFORM ME AT ALL, ONLY SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME.  Well, and it also makes me want to go write.  But anything does that, to be honest, and that one they already know.

5 Comments on “Possessed

  1. Could be mental demons, rather than physical demons.
    I know I’m stressed when I start dreaming about this house. Always the same place, an imaginary one, and I always get lost or am chased inside.
    I’ve learned it’s usually a clue to my mental state.
    But that’s me. Might not apply to you.

    • This was my first inclination, but it felt different than the first one, which I was very certain was about mental stuff. Of course, this one could have been all about the Vicodin, something to never be overlooked.

    • I woke with the nagging sense that there was something about my condition that I was missing, but it’s impossible to tell if that came from my desire to ID it fully & conquer it, or some actual subconscious cue. Sadly.

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