Someone stole my car from the parking lot of the church in my hometown I had attended my entire life. I ran inside for a moment to drop something off, left it running and then it was gone. I picked up my phone to dial 911, but for some reason, they were sending all of my calls to voicemail after one or two rings. Suddenly, the thieves drove back around the street, waving at me from the window and taunting me. I woke up just as they peeled away down the quiet street.
My sleep for the past few nights has been plagued with such vivid dreams, each one more troubling than the last. For example, in one dream I am on my way to Newcomb Hall for a career fair, only to look down to find that I am wearing dirty converse with my pencil skirt, the button down I have chosen has suddenly been fashioned into a crop top and I have forgotten all the copies of my resume I printed out the night before. In another, I see my mother running alongside of the bus I took each morning to high school, trying in vain to hand me an assignment that I forgot at home.
Psychoanalytic theory states that there are various symbols and themes that are more or less universal across all dreamers. Being chased symbolizes stress, losing your teeth points to a fear of being undesirable to others, being tied up is linked to feelings of futility. While I’ve never given much credit to the Freudian practice of dream analysis, I think it’s safe to say that these visions fall comfortably within the category of stress dreams. In any case, it’s the feeling that I’m left with each time I wake up.
My skepticism about the accuracy of dream analysis does nothing to stop me from trying to dissect and find meaning in them. Any time a friend sits down to tell me about their dream, it’s usually followed by the request, “tell me what it means.” Most of the time, interpretation is simple. Dreaming that you’re standing up in front of a crowded auditorium in your underwear a few nights before a big performance, or that you’re falling for what feels like forever when you’re taking a midterm in 24 hours isn’t too much of a stretch.
However, it’s a tiny bit distressing to realize that these nightmares seem to be completely unfounded. In fact, from course registration for my fourth year — hello four day weekends — to my acceptance to the psychology Distinguished Major Program, I’ve had an unusually positive few weeks. This means I’m left searching for the source of my apparent stress. Am I forgetting a looming deadline, or some unanswered question? Or worse, are these dreams some kind of premonition that my recent good luck is about to change?
Upon a review of various syllabi, and after remembering that I neither have nor believe in the kind of psychic powers that would make such visions possible, I’ve decided to chalk these dreams up to the maintenance of equilibrium. Life is made up of both good and bad, and usually strikes a balance somewhere in between. For every good grade I receive, there might be a rejection on the other side. But if my life is currently filled up with so much good that the only place where the bad can fit is my slumbering subconscious, then I’m not going to question it for too long. It simply gives me more to look forward to when I wake up.
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