Food is My Coping Mechanism

Dream: 8/2/2017

I’m at some kind of camp. Only everyone here is really sad/angry/negative. I pick a sleeping bench and try to talk to some people. They all seem exactly the same. One of them says, “You’re going to suffer, you better get used to it.” I’m a little affronted. I ask several of them how they cope in this place. A girl points to one of the boys and says, “Sex.”. Another hands me a bottle of alcoholic cider and says, “Alcohol.” I wonder how I ended up in this place. One of the girls sees my face and laughs. “You’ll get used to it,” she says. Suddenly, the head of the camp comes into our room without knocking. He is giving around 50 people a tour. He doesn’t engage with us, but his helpers do. They’re really funny. One of them helps me fix a nearby fan and we laugh when it sprays me with water. After the tour is over and the visitors are gone, people start throwing all their stuff into bags. I don’t know what’s happening. Eventually, someone says, “grab your shit we’re going!” Going where? Why? No one answers me. We leave the bunk room and enter an amazing library. I enjoy looking at all the books, but then I start freaking out. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know what I might need. I run around looking for things. I’m starting to feel kind of crazy, when someone grabs me and shoves me into an RV. Inside there is a random girl I don’t know and the guy who’s mother runs the camp. The guy says that we had better eat. He shoves a massive plate of fruit in front of us. It has 5 bananas, plus multiple peaches and plums. I look at the guy confused. He tells me to eat because at camp food is not guaranteed. Sometimes they just won’t feed us. Other times the food might be incredible. The guy opened up a cooler filled with half rotten pasta as an example. I look at the fruit, which isn’t enough to keep me going by itself. The guy sees my face and takes pity. He pulls out a microwavable lasagna. “Alright,” he says pulling up at a beach. “You can have this but only because I know where you’re going.” I wonder what that means right before I wake up.


So this dream is clearly about my childhood and the coping mechanisms I developed. In the earlier part of the dream, I get shown how some people cope [suffer through it, have sex, use alcohol, etc…], but later in the dream I get shown how I cope [food]. I have such a weird relationship to food. When I was a kid we either starved (if mom was drunk and couldn’t be bothered to cook) or we ate really well. The bunk room in the camp represents my life as a kid. I wanted out [to pack up my shit and leave], but there was no where to go. My only escape was found in books [the library]. In them, I found evidence that life could be different and that my situation wasn’t normal. Eventually I escaped by growing up [got pulled onto the RV and driven away from camp]. But even as an adult, I’m still using old coping mechanisms. I still look at what’s healthy and think it’s not enough. I still eat breakfast sometimes and then think I should eat a second breakfast because there might not be any dinner later. I think the dream is trying to show me that my issues with losing weight go way deeper than just counting calories and eating healthy. There’s some childhood traumas that need to be unwound. Once that happens my relationship to food will change naturally.


Drowning in Toxic Memories

Dream Series: 6/1/2017

Dream 1:

A man takes me to the site of what appears to be some kind of chemical spill. There’s two lakes right next to each other and they’re covered in a weird white foam. The air is filled with dandelion fluff and a strange milky white substance that sticks to my hands and face like spiderwebs. I’m not sure what to do about it, but I know it’s toxic to stay there.

Dream 2:

I’m in the ocean. I live there. I really want to see Hawaii. I hitch a ride with a bunch of whales, careful that they don’t notice me. I’m on the run. When we get to Hawaii, I make a dash for the shore. The whales come after me. They’re vicious. I barely make it to the shore. I start to run up a some steps into the jungle. As I do, I notice I’m breathing. I’m breathing AIR! It feels so different but really good. I feel liberated. At the top of the stairs, I see a baby tiger. He’s playing. Then he sees me and scrambles to get away. I try to tell him I’m not dangerous, but he won’t listen. He runs to the end of the cliff and jumps off with a little growl. I run up the cliff, afraid to find out what happened to him. Turns out there is an amazing waterfall slide right there. The cub is playing at the bottom in the sand. His dad comes up behind me. He’s a tiger, but he’s also human. He claps me on the shoulder. His son is jumping up and down, “Did you see it, dad? Did you see it?” The tiger man laughs. “It’s just like camp dad,” the cub says. “Only better!” The cub wants his dad to try the waterslide. Hid dad jumps down and I can see his leg is bigger than the slide tuber. There is no way he can use it. I get a strange sense of foreboding and hear the words, “Later I would learn a local tip about putting apple cider vinegar in the water and to notify the local police about any intended water use from the imprisonment.” Then I wake up.


I read somewhere that dandelion fluff represents childhood. To me, these dreams are about being overwhelmed by my memories of childhood trauma. In the first one, I’m caught in a web and the air is so thick with dandelion fluff that I can barely breathe. I know that being immersed in old childhood pain is toxic, but I don’t know how to get out. In the second one, I’m literally immersed in my emotions [I live in the ocean], but I don’t notice how heavy they are until something changes [I get out of the water and breathe air]. Then it’s obvious that I’m not meant to be living in old wounds. It’s time to let go. To turn to the strong, happy child [the tiger cub] instead of the wounded one. It’s time to remember that sometimes my family was supportive and kind, that even the darkness there were moments of joy. It wasn’t all bad. But adult me has trouble with this [the tiger dad gets stuck in the waterslide] and resists opening up to new ways of seeing things. I’m keeping myself in prison, which is the final message.



Hidden in the Water

Dream Series: 26/12/2016

Dream 1:

I’m on a beach at the base of a cliff. I’m with a bunch of people. Suddenly the waves start getting bigger and bigger. I run towards them, realizing the only way to survive is go through them. I dive into the base of a wave and dolphin my way to the top. My lungs burn and I’m not sure I’m going to make it, but I do. Then the wave is carrying me. I flip onto my back so that I can breathe. I’m expecting the wave to pull me over the edge and into the churn but it never does. I worry about the people on the shore, but the waves never even get near them.

Dream 2:

I’m with my dad. We go home and find that the house is flooded. We go upstairs and there is sand coming through the light fixtures. One of them has water pouring through as well. I walk around the bannister, which is square and goes around the room following the walls. I see my cousins. They’re sleeping, but they’re underwater. I’m afraid they’ll drown. I try to wake them up but dad stops me, saying it’s only 4 in the morning. I see them gently rise to the surface, take a breath and then subside again. One of them looks at me, floats up out of the water and goes right past me into the bedroom. Dad is looking for mom. I know she’s under the water too. Dad says she’s prostituting herself and I wake up.


Water usually means something subconscious. Something is underwater, hidden. In the first dream, I’m willing to face whatever it is, but the danger I fear turns out not to be real. I’m pretty sure the second dream represents the pattern of sexual abuse that’s associated with my family. We keep it all hidden, but it’s there [the girls surface only when they need to in order to survive]. The truth is we’re all drowning in the secrets, the lies, the shame, and the blame.

Maybe the combination of dreams is trying to show me that I should just face these aspects of my family and deal with them head on. It’s only when we deal with the fear that we realize there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place.

Needle Jabbed by a Child

Meditation 30/11/2016

I was doing another LightBody meditation. In the middle, I started to feel really self-recriminatory. I had a vision where a priest and a young boy were in the room with me. It felt like they were both different aspects of me. I tried to convince the boy that he didn’t need to be afraid. I was tempted to punch the priest, but remembered to send love instead. The boy agreed with me, but then he jabbed a needle into my neck. I ignored it and someone nearby (a guide?) pulled it out.

Worried About Mom’s Opinion

Dream: 22/11/2016

I won an award, a big one to do with school. The event is tonight, and I know I need to go home and get ready. I’m leaving campus (at the Auckland Domain) so I call an Uber. It drives right past me. The driver calls, and I try to explain where I am. He can’t seem to understand. I end up having to walk. When I finally get home (to my childhood home on Oak Knoll), I have only 15 minutes before I have to turn around and leave again. I jump in the shower. Mom has picked out the shampoo and conditioner. I know I don’t have time to blow dry my hair and that she’ll be pissed, but there’s nothing to be done. I get out of the shower and start to look for something to wear. For some reason, there is luggage everywhere! There are lots of lots of hiking packs. I know what I want isn’t in the packs, but I can’t stop fussing with them. Finally, I decide to go back to the bedroom. I go into my underwear drawer, looking for a bra, but every one I grab is completely f*d up. Sitting in the drawer are all these weird wooden masks with gold dots on them. They make me feel really pissed off. I go looking for some socks, knowing I want to wear black ones.  I can’t find anything but the nude socks that mom likes. I’m really angry now. I’m already 1/2 hour late to the event. I go into my sisters’ closet. They have a bunch of colorful maxi dresses with designs. I decide on a blue one, hoping it won’t make me look fat.  I take it back to my bedroom. I hear the speakers calling out the names of the awardees. I realize that because I’ve been so worries about mom and what she’ll think, I’ve missed the whole thing. I wake up.


Definitely need to stop worrying so much about what my family thinks/wants and start living for me. I’m missing out on life because there’s a part of me that still wants to win their approval.

I Blow Up at George Clooney

Dream: 8/8/2016

I’m a child (10-11 years old). I’m working in some kind of lab. I love my boss, but he’s very secretive. One day, I go to work and find the entrance (which looks like a well) surrounded by men in black suits. Seeing that I’m going somewhere, they start to question me. I make up a story and lie through my teeth. I know my boss is in the lab, but I also know they can’t get him if I don’t say anything. Eventually, they leave me alone. I wait next to the entrance for hours, but my boss never comes out. I decide to go home. On the way home, a car picks me up. My boss is in the car, along with a team of people. Everyone is dressed in black. They’re going to unmask the criminals (George Clooney and Julia Roberts). Except, just as we’re on our way, the building next to us goes up in fiery flame. The car is rocked. I get out. It’s smoky. I go to a nearby door. There’s an elevator. I get in and go to level 5.  As soon as I hit the number, the elevator goes up so fast that I float for several seconds before landing on my feet. I walk out and I’m at an extravagant restaurant. I walk over to a waiter, who eyes me questioningly. I tell him I’d like to look around. He seems to understand my predicament and points to a nearby stairway. I go down and am in a room with beautiful porcelain hanging on all of the walls and sitting in the cabinets. The lights are soft. I go to look in a cabinet when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see George Clooney and Julia Roberts heading for dinner. I duck my head down, hoping they won’t recognize me. They swoosh past. I follow them. At the restaurant, I see my Aunt Debbie. She’s dressed up really fancy. She’s surprised to see me, but invites me to join her for dinner. I mistake Colin Wilson for her husband. My aunt steers me towards our real table. George Clooney is giving a speech. I can’t take it any more. I boil over and stand up, calling him a liar. Everyone looks at me waiting for proof. I start talking about an English newspaper article regarding his maid which he had buried. My evidence is flimsy and people start to get up and walk about. George Clooney smirks at me. I’m only a child after all, easily discredited. Later, I’m in a room surrounded by paper. I’m sitting with a jury from the department of justice, trying to convince them to let me look at their records. Like the others, they deny me, but I’m not deterred. I know I’m right!


I think that George Clooney and Julia Roberts represent my parents. When I was a kid, I felt that they were hiding something vital. Later when I was a teenager, they revealed that my eldest sister was only a 1/2 sister and that we had another 1/2 sister who lived with her mother. I’ve often felt that all the secrets made our family dynamics really toxic. As a child, I protected my family. I lied to keep up appearance, like they taught me to. In the dream, I lied to the men to protect the lab. But secrets always have a way of catching up with people [the nearby building blows up]. Eventually I have to stand up for the truth [I call George Clooney a liar]. Only, I have no proof. I have only my memories, which no one believes. I feel like I’m on trial [the jury from the department of justice]. People know things, but they won’t reveal them [they won’t let me see the records]. Everyone is in denial about the family dynamics except me. I guess that’s because everyone else has something to gain from things staying the same.

Body Image Issues

Dream 18/7/2016

I’m at my father’s birthday party. There is a man there that I find extremely attractive. I’d be happy if he even talked to me. I’m helping prepare everything and I feel really good. Then I walk up to dad to say happy birthday. The attractive man is standing there. He smiles and says, “Hi Miss Howe. Are you pregnant? How’s the baby?” My dad jumps up and says, “Yes, she is!” He doesn’t want the man to realize that no, I’m just fat. I feel angry and humiliated. I turn to the guy and say, “No, I’m not pregnant.” Then I turn to my dad and say, “And don’t lie to people to save face about me being fat. Tell anyone else I’m pregnant and I’ll kill you myself.” He sits down in a glass booth. I can tell he’s upset. I don’t care. When the guy spoke to me, I was on my way to get a glass of water. It’s in my hand. I throw it into the sink and it shatters. My sisters eye me questioningly. I start walking back to the house, thinking I will play video games and hide. Then I think, fuck this. I decide to go to the beach instead. I walk down a path and am there in minutes. Before the beach, there is a river with a dock and a row a trees. A man is taking a group of children for a swim up the river. It is shallow and they are having a great time. I get in and start swimming with them. No one says anything. Eventually they make their way to the beach. I get out and go with them. I stare at the trees. They glitch like they aren’t real. I can see a pattern of 6 dots in the shape of a pyramid on the trunk of one of the trees. I go back to playing with the kids. The guy in charge of the them is really cool. A little girl says something to me and I wake up.


This is definitely a dream about body image issues and shame. When I was younger, my mother made me feel that I was never pretty enough. I wasn’t thin enough. My hair was never straight enough. I never dressed correctly. She believed that women’s value came from being beautiful, and since I wasn’t a great beauty according to her standards, I didn’t have value. It’s strange, but in her world (and I suspect many women’s worlds) the ultimate approval a woman can receive is a man’s attention, his sexual favor. In the dream, I feel excited that there is an eligible man present, but it all turns to dust when my body size becomes the focus. I feel ashamed for being who I am, having the body I have. Then I feel enraged. I let the rage out [I yell at dad and break a glass], but afterwards I feel lost. These ideas are so ingrained in everyone present that I don’t know how to deal with the situation. So I leave the party and I regress back into being a child. Except I’m no longer a child, I’m an adult.  Although playing the child might comfort me, it’s not real [the trees glitch]. At some point, I have to learn to confront people and their beliefs, how to set and maintain my boundaries without losing my temper. It’s time to grow up.

Gypsy Circus in the Desert

Dream 17/7/2016

I’m attending a gypsy circus. The landscape is really dusty and desert like. My sister, Jaime, and her son are there. The kid keeps pushing open the metal gates that stand between the audience and the show. Jaime keeps picking him up and closing the gates. Then, he opens them when a tiger is pacing back and forth. My inner rescuer kicks in. I grab him and think angrily that someone should padlock the gate during shows.


Children (my inner child?) can expose what we believe to be the most dangerous part of ourselves [the tiger]. They aren’t confined by the societal rules and regulations [the gates]. Instead, they are true explorers, open to the possibilities. My child is trying to open the gate within me, to help me have new experiences [the gypsy circus], but I keep shutting them because I’m afraid [wandering in the desert].

I had this dream right after watching The Legend of Tarzan for the 2nd time.  The whole story of Tarzan is about man’s connection to his inner nature, which Western society sees as wild and uncontrollable and therefore unacceptable. They literally beat him and break him down so that he can ‘civilized’. I guess there’s a part of me that worries that if I truly connect with my instinctual self and Mother Earth that I will become too wild, too unacceptable. There is a part of me that wishes I was happy just being ‘normal’. That part of me wants what my sisters have: a family, a house, children, etc… For many years, I’ve made that part of me out to be weak and easily controlled, but what if it’s not? What if it’s natural? Maybe it’s time to venerate the different aspects of myself. To honor the part of me that wants to experience and grow and serve and teach, and to honor the part of me that wants to have the simple joys and pleasures of a normal life. Both are parts of me. I thought for a long time that one excluded the other, but they don’t. I can have both, be both.

Family Secrets

Dream 3/7/2016

I’m standing with mom on the grass outside of an airport. We’re waiting for someone. My grandfather, my aunt, and one of my cousins [mom’s family] walks past. Mom says, “There goes the principal.” I go grab them. We’ve brought a van,  but there’s not that much room. The van is full of pillows, some with blood on them. We stuff the pillows up against the windows in order to fit all the people in. Mom’s entire family (except for my uncle) is there. The passengers can’t see anything. We drive.


Written at the time of the dream — My glasses broke the day I had this dream. I think it’s about a pattern no one is willing to see. I’ve thought a lot recently about why I attract emotionally unavailable men. Why I fear a deep, loving relationship. Yesterday, when I was sitting in a cafe, I kept thinking about my ancestors and how I’m cut off from them. I sometimes feel like my family has their hands around my throat. Don’t speak. Don’t tell. I wonder if grandpa sexually abused my mother or my uncle or both. He was always handsy with us when we would visit. It matches a dream I had 2 years ago, where I was asking my angel what my issue with my mother and authority was. He said “Do you really want to know?” I said, “Yes.” We were standing over the ocean. He took my hand and pulled me down, down, down, until he lit something so the water was illuminated. In the light, I could see a child being abused. I couldn’t look. I woke up. Later, I did a family constellation around this dream (which I had 2-3 time). The constellation dealt with boundaries with my mother. Well actually, with her lack of them. I wonder now if that was only one layer of the story. A week ago, I looked at my heart chakra and it was covered in black tar. My inner child was swimming in it, getting covered in tar. She was terrified. I cleared it out. Yesterday I was self-conscious, worse than I’ve ever been. I wasn’t able to enjoy anything. I kept worrying about what people thought.

What I think now — The dream clearly references a family pattern from my mother’s side [one member of each generation is present]. I know there was physical abuse in her childhood [represented by the blood] and I know that the family kept it a secret [placing the pillows so that no one can see into the van]. I think the dream was trying to show me that I’m affected by the pattern too [I’m in the van and I can’t see out]. All I can say is, it stops with me. I won’t pass this pattern on to my children.

Arrested by the FBI

Dream: Undated, sometime in late-2014

I’m under house arrest by the FBI for starting a cult based on a children’s book. I really want to escape, but I also feel I should somehow deal with the situation.


This is a short dream! Hmm..well…. Starting a cult about a children’s book clearly references how I built a lot of my identity on what happened to me as a child. The adult me [the FBI]  is trying to help me break free of that identity. But like any cult, it’s not simple to escape. My entire idea of who I am was based around the idea that I’m a survivor. Bad things happened to me as a kid and I got through them, came out stronger. It’s not a bad myth to live by because there’s power in being the person who has overcome things. At the same time, it’s completely based on being the victim. I don’t want to see myself as the victim any more. I don’t want my entire life to be about the pain that I endured. I’d rather that my personal myth be based around the positive experiences I’ve had and the positive qualities that I possess. I’d rather be the hero of my story than the victim of my past.

Saved by Grandma

Dream: Undated, sometime in late-2014

I only wrote down fragments of this dream, so it might seem a bit disjointed… A house explodes. A grandma without legs pulls a young boy to the evacuation site where they’re given a patch of grass. Hundreds of people are there. There are two big men sitting with the grandma and boy, but they don’t help look after the kid. The woman next to them comes over and says, “I see what this is. A grandma, a lad, and two guards. You’re with the government!” She then attempts to blackmail them. The grandma looks weary. She blackmailed the government herself to get the kid. She knows that if she gives the lady what she wants, they’ll take the kid away.


I’m not sure what this dream means. I suspect it is something about my inner child [the kid] feeling that she is somehow a source of problems or dangers [the grandma risks her life to save the kid and is then blackmailed].  As a child, I felt unwanted and uncared for. So, I guess the dream could be showing me that I have a deep belief and fear about being a problem or burden to my parents/family. That’s a pretty serious base chakra issue and very existential. If I’m a burden to my family, then I’m a burden to the universe. If I’m a problem for them, then I’m a problem for God. And if I’m a burden to the universe and a problem for God, do I even have the right to exist?

Hiding from Godzilla

Dream: Undated, sometime in mid-2014

I’m in a big city with a few friends. It’s me, a guy and 2 kids. We’re having a good time when suddenly I realize that the city is under attack by Godzilla. It’s not safe. We’re near a bank. I get us inside. It’s rainy and really windy. It’s a close call that Godzilla doesn’t see us. One of the kids wanders outside and the guy has to go and get her. When they come back inside, we notice that there is now a big locked/unlocked sign on the door. Suddenly, people can tell it’s a safe place and they want to come in. I let them in until it’s full. A man whose kids are inside is stuck outside. I let him in. I tell everybody to move over, make space. Then, we hear someone coming and we get really quiet. A cop comes into the building. I realize we never locked the door. I quietly get up and lock it, hoping not to be seen. I’m not. The cop goes up the stairs. Everyone stays quiet. Suddenly, a blonde girl yells, “we’re safe!” We tell her to shut up, but she doesn’t understand. She keeps talking way too loudly. The third time she says it, the cop hears her. I’m terrified we’ll be found. The guy I was with in the beginning looks at me. He grabs the talking girl and runs through the door. The cop has his pants around his ankles. He runs down the stairs and outside, ass hanging out. He’s looking for the culprit, but they’ve gone down a nearby drain. I wait for them to come back, but they’re enjoying their freedom. They’re dancing underwater and singing funny songs. The guy says he’ll bring the girl back at 1 am, which is curfew time. It will be the last chance for them to reach us before the building shuts down completely. I wonder if they’ll come back. They seem happy out there, almost like there’s no danger at all.


This is a dream about how I felt as a child. Godzilla represents my mother. I’m terrified of her. She’s an all powerful destroyer. To be safe, I lock parts of myself away, especially parts she doesn’t  like. I hide in a place where I control who comes in and who goes out. The cop represents my eldest sister, Jaime. She was older and meant to protect me, but in reality she saw me as someone to prey upon and hurt. As a kid, I tried not to be noticed, to be quiet and stay safe, but parts of me are loud [the yelling girl] and it doesn’t always work. The masculine part of me [the guy] protects me by taking the loud part outside. I become tough and that strong part of me feels alive [dancing and singing outside]. But I keep the other parts of me locked up. It’s still not safe for them. When will it be safe to come out? It’s time to let all the parts of me come out of hiding. Note: I woke up from this dream at 1am, curfew time…

Storybook: Being Different

Dream: Undated sometime in mid-2014

In my dream, I see myself as a little kid about 5 years old. She’s holding open a picture book and reading a story to me. It went like this:

There once was a walrus born into the body of a teddy bear. His teddy family didn’t understand him. He did weird things and made weird noises. They wanted him to be like them, to be a normal teddy. After many years, he tried to forget that he was a walrus. It was too hard to be different, to be excluded. For many, many years he went about life as a teddy bear, but inside he always felt uncomfortable, like he was a playing at life instead of living. Then one day, he met a walrus at work. He liked the walrus instantly. When they were out to lunch, the walrus was telling a story and suddenly the teddy couldn’t speak. When he finally did, he made walrus sounds! His new friend looked at him in surprise. ‘Is he making fun of me?’ The walrus asked himself, but then he looked at his friend’s face and he knew the truth. A big grin spread across his face. “By god,” he said jovially, “I think you’re a walrus!” Teddy looked at him and began to cry. Someone finally saw him! Not the body he was in, but him, the real him! His memory came rushing back and he remembered that he was a walrus and that that was a beautiful thing.

Killing Zombies

Dream: Undated sometime in mid-2014

I’m waiting in a room with a bunch of people. We’re waiting our turn to take a test where we kill zombies. Everyone is talking about how they want to kill hundreds of them and they’re keeping their guns. They talk about feeling vs mentality. Several people go before me. When it’s my turn, I’m not nervous. I’m eating a blueberry muffin on a plate. I decide to take it with me. The others think I’m crazy. How will I hold my gun if I’ve got a muffin in my hand? When I get into the house, there are zombies everywhere covered in blood and spazzing out. I worry that the other people were right. I can’t really access my guns. But then it finally comes to me, the zombies aren’t paying me any attention. I climb up the stairs in the house and finally one comes after me. I shoot at it and somehow get it to follow me outside. I shoot at it again and it falls down. I know I have to crush its head, but I keep smashing at its ribs with the heel of my boot until the lungs/ribs crack. Then I wake up.


The zombies represent my own inner demons. They’re in my head (i.e. inside a house in the dream). The dream is a metaphor for how I felt about the group therapy work I was involved in at the time. I felt like everyone in the group was afraid of dealing with their own trauma. So in the dream, the people I’m with run through the house (which represents their own way of seeing the world), shooting at random. Sometimes they nail a zombie (work something out), sometimes they don’t. It’s different for me. I intentionally go in looking for one that’s ready, and the other zombies don’t bother me. Maybe I already know that I’m infected (i.e. I recognize the zombies as just unhealed parts of me), while the others don’t. In the dream, I bring the issue [the zombie] out into the light [outside] and kill it [deal with it]. Only I have to deal with it emotionally, so I end up smashing the heart area not the head. I’m carrying a blueberry muffin because that was my favorite food as a child. Holding it represents that I was ready to deal with my childhood trauma. The childhood issue that was ready to be healed [i.e. the zombie that followed me] recognized this and came into the light for healing.

Halloween with the Family

Dream: Undated sometime in 2014

I’m with the family. It’s Halloween, and we’re going to see a haunted house. We walk past a lot of carved pumpkins. One with a carved bat that seems to go on forever into the back of the pumpkin catches my eye. We get into the house and it has high vaulted ceilings, like my childhood house. The tour starts, but I’m really bored. Jaime’s son falls down in the middle of the tour and she screams at him. Mom, Haley, Jessica, and I squeeze into a bucket shaped carnival ride car with glass on top. We’re super squished. It spins round and round. I don’t get why the house is considered haunted. There aren’t any ghosts.


The night I had this dream, I wrote the following question on my dream notebook, “I ask to be shown the cause of my deep feeling of non-belonging.” Here’s what I thought that morning –> I associate belonging with giving in to being controlled. Maybe I have the belief that if you’re strong and independent and wild, you can never belong because you’re uncontrollable and you want to be different. Other people can’t accept that.

Here’s what I think now –> The dream is showing me that my sense of non-belonging is directly connected to my issues with my family [my childhood home is haunted]. And a lot of my issues with them were around how I felt that they led fake lives [Halloween, dressing up, covering up, etc…]. This bothered me because I have always wanted to be and feel authentic. Except in the dream, no one is faking anything, but there are power/control issues [screaming at a child for falling down] and clearly I felt that my family didn’t have enough room for me [squished into the glass cart]. So yeah, I think the dream was trying to show me that my issues with belonging were intertwined with feeling like I didn’t get enough attention as a child and when I did, it was negative.

Also I think it’s worth noting how the interpretation of the dream changes over time. We interpret things through our personal lens, which includes our issues and belief systems. At the time, I was invested in the idea that my family was trying to control me and that I had to break free, so I interpreted the dream in that light. Now i can see the actual issues much more clearly.

All Hallows

Dream: Undated sometime in mid-2014

I am back at All Hallows, the Catholic K-8 school that I attended for 9 years of my life. This time, however, I’m a substitute teacher. Everything is covered in snow and once you leave the edge of the school grounds you walk directly into whiteout and have to turn back. One side of the building looks like a prison tower. I don’t like the way teach here, erasing things to “make them better”. There is a painting where the artists has put red on the person’s forehead. It looks like blood, so during a meeting the teachers decide to quickly paint over it. There’s a classroom of 1-3 year olds present and they look okay. It’s being run by a young woman and the kids were filled joy because she was reading Cat in the Hat. But all the other classrooms felt menacing. I found a way to get to the back of the school and it was full of fairground food stalls covered in advertising. It was almost like the school was a machine meant to make you believe certain things and to make you afraid of thinking differently. I keep looking for a way out of the school, but all routes lead back to it or into the whiteout. Everything is really dangerous and slippery as though you’re meant to hurt yourself.


This dream disturbed me so much at the time that I immediately scheduled a healing session. It’s obvious that a part of me [child self] was stuck, frozen in that period of my life [the snow] and unable to find a way out [the white out]. The school was strict Catholic, taught by nuns and heavily invested in indoctrinating the students with religious conditioning [advertising behind the school]. It literally felt like a prison camp. The painting is interesting. The healer I went to see pointed out that blood represents life-force, so in a way the teachers were  trying to dampen down the life-force of their charges. In the healing, we did some inner child work where we went back into those memories and found the various pieces of me that were stuck in each classroom. Each classroom represented a grade. I think we did about 5 of them before the whole scene shifted and filled with light. In the beginning, the healer said she could see the shadows of the horrible nuns standing over me, tormenting me. By the end, she said they were gone and I felt a tremendous sense of lightness afterwards.

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