Dreaming in and out of Rome

Well it finally happened, I was sent to a mental hospital. At first everything was fine, I was fine. I don’t know how it happened, but there were all these scratches all over my body. Apparently I’d done it to myself. I’d scratched myself with my own nails all over till I was bleeding. I was horrified, but not because of my appearence, but because I couldn’t remember doing it. Come to find out, people kept telling me all these things I’d done and I couldn’t remember any of them. I remember packing a coulple of bags and walking into the hospital. It was a long hall way, wide and bright with artificial lighting. I was holding a bag in front of me, clutching it, I suppose for comfort.  I was scared and nervous. How odd it was to feel totally myself, totally sane and in control but be walking into a mental hosptial for actions I couldn’t even remember. It was probably one of the worst dreams I’ve ever had.

Last night was weird too. I was a child, late elementary school age and for some reason I was supposed to swim with sharks. In this dream world the sharks weren’t that dangerous, but I was terrified like I would be in real life. It was recreational, an experience all children were supposed to go through, like learning how to swim. We were on a dock with a shark-swimming instructor. I didn’t want to go in but my mother and the man-friend-whatever guy that I’d rather not think of were urging me to go in. He pulled me until my legs dangled off the edge of the dock. I saw the shark swim towards me, it started biting at my legs. It felt like a dog’s playfull bites and it didn’t really hurt, but I was so scared because it was this massive shark. I pulled my legs out of the water and retreated to the back of the dock as far away from the water. They tried to reasure me that I would be fine, safe, but I didnt’ go back in.

The dream continued with me being younger, at some points I was junior high age. I walked and talked with friends. I was in my old room back in my hometown where I grew up. It was a little different, but there were similar elements.

It’s my first day back from my trip to Rome. I feel so strange and not just from jetlag. I was completely removed from my own world, and submerged in a different environment for 5 whole days. Now I’m back, submerged in my regular life and what did I dream of? My past…ish, my deep fears, being younger and feeling vulnerable and helpless. These feelings are hard to shake once you wake up. I think I’ll go see a movie, that might help me get out of this awful frame of mind.