Hello,
I'm new here and just joined because I need to talk about a dream I had last night that upset me a fair bit. (For context, before I start: my sister died 10 years ago, and my mother is alive and well, and my grandmother, not in the dream, died less than a month ago).
It starts in a church or a cathedral. Myself and my family are sat all the way up to the front, but far to the side (and the side leads, oddly, into some kind of glitzy shopping mall). I think perhaps we're here because of my grandmother's passing, though she didn't want a church service. All of a sudden, the priest, a very tall, dark-haired woman, starts shrieking and her shriek turns into a loud melodic hum. I think she's trying to get our attention because we haven't been listening to her, but it turns out to be the start of some kind of ritual dance. People rush to dance and hug in front of the altar, and I'm physically dragged into the crowd, clueless. I hug a few strangers, then my mother, gleaming, grabs me by the arm and we start dancing. She tells me: "it's OK now, you can stop, with the fits". I am confused: "with the fits? What fits? Have I lost time?". She says in French "non, tu fixes", and I don't know if it means I'm fixating on things or that I just stare at things during fits of some sorts. As it turns out, I find myself staring at a sparkly pink candelabra shop in the aisle seconds later, unable to look anywhere else. My cousins are talking about hiring a van for a holiday. The conversation with my mother continues in my head: "I really can't take it anymore, is what it is, and you all know it. Is that why God has decided to give me my sister back?"
Suddenly I'm in a rush to go retrieve my luggage and my sister's from a language-school hotel where we'd been staying. We're in the van, and she's right behind my back. We arrive at the hotel car park. There's lots of cars with luggage being loaded, and lots of suitcases just chucked on the ground. I spot my suitcase on the ground, empty, and she spots her bag in a car, stuffed, though I know things of hers are missing too. I grab both, and walk to the gate. She's still right behind me. A hotel staff person tells me the place is being refurbished and we're not supposed to get in, we weren't supposed to come back. But I want in to retrieve our things, so I make my way, with others, past the railings. We navigate up the drive a bit like in a video-game... dodging holes, pools, wires... the staff are actually cheering for us. It gets increasingly, incredibly dangerous and scary. Then we climb a big slope on the side, and hear a crying baby. We find a crevice on the other side, with what appears to be a pool of blood at the bottom. For some reason, we all assume this couple we know, with a baby, has fallen and died. The baby is crying and nowhere to be seen. The pool of blood looks increasingly like a broken egg, with some blood mixed into the white and the yolk. It's beginning to get washed away by a tide.
At that point I say to myself "no", turn around to look at the hotel, and start dashing towards the reception, where I intend to make a big fuss about our missing belongings.
That's it. It woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep. I've had a few dreams with my sister in them before and they were absolutely tender - I felt so peaceful and loved. But this dream wasn't like that. I almost put in the "nightmare" section, but it wasn't that either. Also, I almost never remember my dreams, so for me to come and write it down hours later means it was extremely vivid.
I don't know why it's bothering me so and weighing so heavy this morning... I would love to hear your thoughts.
I'm new here and just joined because I need to talk about a dream I had last night that upset me a fair bit. (For context, before I start: my sister died 10 years ago, and my mother is alive and well, and my grandmother, not in the dream, died less than a month ago).
It starts in a church or a cathedral. Myself and my family are sat all the way up to the front, but far to the side (and the side leads, oddly, into some kind of glitzy shopping mall). I think perhaps we're here because of my grandmother's passing, though she didn't want a church service. All of a sudden, the priest, a very tall, dark-haired woman, starts shrieking and her shriek turns into a loud melodic hum. I think she's trying to get our attention because we haven't been listening to her, but it turns out to be the start of some kind of ritual dance. People rush to dance and hug in front of the altar, and I'm physically dragged into the crowd, clueless. I hug a few strangers, then my mother, gleaming, grabs me by the arm and we start dancing. She tells me: "it's OK now, you can stop, with the fits". I am confused: "with the fits? What fits? Have I lost time?". She says in French "non, tu fixes", and I don't know if it means I'm fixating on things or that I just stare at things during fits of some sorts. As it turns out, I find myself staring at a sparkly pink candelabra shop in the aisle seconds later, unable to look anywhere else. My cousins are talking about hiring a van for a holiday. The conversation with my mother continues in my head: "I really can't take it anymore, is what it is, and you all know it. Is that why God has decided to give me my sister back?"
Suddenly I'm in a rush to go retrieve my luggage and my sister's from a language-school hotel where we'd been staying. We're in the van, and she's right behind my back. We arrive at the hotel car park. There's lots of cars with luggage being loaded, and lots of suitcases just chucked on the ground. I spot my suitcase on the ground, empty, and she spots her bag in a car, stuffed, though I know things of hers are missing too. I grab both, and walk to the gate. She's still right behind me. A hotel staff person tells me the place is being refurbished and we're not supposed to get in, we weren't supposed to come back. But I want in to retrieve our things, so I make my way, with others, past the railings. We navigate up the drive a bit like in a video-game... dodging holes, pools, wires... the staff are actually cheering for us. It gets increasingly, incredibly dangerous and scary. Then we climb a big slope on the side, and hear a crying baby. We find a crevice on the other side, with what appears to be a pool of blood at the bottom. For some reason, we all assume this couple we know, with a baby, has fallen and died. The baby is crying and nowhere to be seen. The pool of blood looks increasingly like a broken egg, with some blood mixed into the white and the yolk. It's beginning to get washed away by a tide.
At that point I say to myself "no", turn around to look at the hotel, and start dashing towards the reception, where I intend to make a big fuss about our missing belongings.
That's it. It woke me up and I couldn't get back to sleep. I've had a few dreams with my sister in them before and they were absolutely tender - I felt so peaceful and loved. But this dream wasn't like that. I almost put in the "nightmare" section, but it wasn't that either. Also, I almost never remember my dreams, so for me to come and write it down hours later means it was extremely vivid.
I don't know why it's bothering me so and weighing so heavy this morning... I would love to hear your thoughts.
