Maybe it’s this anxiety being super charged? Maybe it’s my nervous system being tutored by these overwhelming allergies? Maybe it’s both? I know, I have very high expectations for myself and the way that I live my life… that in itself can cause unnecessary stress. I do work pretty damn well under pressure but with that does come the dreams… the nightmares.
This one takes place in my head… a schoolhouse that represents my mind. In the schoolhouse there were a few people. I can’t remember how many or what they all looked like. I was watching them, as if I was looking down on the scene play out. I was focused on 4 of characters.
The first was the older black lady. She actually looked a bit like Whoopi Goldberg but it wasn’t her… she just reminded me of her. She seemed like the wise one, the mentor, the teacher. Her clothes for muted, beige and tan, loose fitting. Her hair black and graying, tided up in a purple and gold scarf. She wear too many rings on her fingers and one single, very long, sliver necklace that had a medallion on the end, it was sliver as well.
Then there was a younger girl, I can’t remember her face well. She seemed very nervous and shy, pushing herself into the corners of the rooms. I think she was an older teenager. Her clothes were oversized and tattered, she kept her head down and didn’t make eye contact. Her hair was dirty blond and fell over her face, she never bother to move it away. It would have been easy to miss her but at the end of my dream; she almost got caught in the crossfire, this made me go back and analyze.
Then I saw the mystery women. The target, I call her. She was young, bright and had a calmness about her. She smiled and used her hands when she spoke, but I can’t remember what she said. I just remember wanting to be this women. She was lively, she moved around the schoolhouse, from person to person with ease and care. She was likeable and social. Everyone seemed happy to see her at first, even the shy teenager girl peeked out from her corner to greet her and they hugged briefly. She looked a lot like me but wasn’t me. Darker features, darker hair that was up in a messy ponytail, slim, short, light blue jeans, with a light colored sweat shirt. Somewhat plain but beautiful. Her face was much like mine but it wasn’t my face; it was more squared, and she had wider eyes. Her eyes were blue, not hazel, her mouth stretched a crossed her face with fuller lips. We were so close to same but different.
Then came in, the mad man. The crazy guy…the gunman. The scary one. He was wrecked, hair of white and blond, medium to short length, utterly disheveled. His eyes bloodshot, like saucers, wide open and wild. The mad man wore a long shelved undershirt, the kind you’d wear to keep wear under your winter clothes, it was off-white. His shirt was misshapen, the 3 buttons at the top were pull apart and stretched out. His jean looked like he’d been working a long hard days work, dirty and faded. In his withered white hand was a sliver hand gun. In his frantic state, the crazed mad man flung the gun around, pointing it at everyone as screamed and ran through the schoolhouse.
I’ve tried to replay this nightmare back so I could recall the gunman’s words, but all I can remember is him saying “I will kill her”, “I won’t be the one leaving”, “I’m just gonna do it”. The mad man continued to yell hysterically, pointing this gun wildly at everyone as they desperately tried to get out of the way. I felt a real fear that something truly terribly was about to happen and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just watched. The young shy girl slide down the wall and covered her head. The mad went charging towards her but stopped and charged his directions. He was looking for someone else.
The mystery women was his target, he was looking for her but I don’t know why. He found what he was looking for and when he did the fear in the schoolhouse was terrible. Everyone ran or hide.
The wise women walked up some stairs and came over to the mad man, she simply said, no to him. The target women also walked over to the mad man. She said something to him, talking with her hands, with a gentle smile of concern on her face. She then softly touched the side of the mad man’s arm, then turned around to walk away. As she walked away she put her hands together as if to pray and closed her eyes. The mad man pointed the gun at the back of her head. I wanted to scream but there was nothing I could do but watch in horror at what I was about to see happen!
The old women still standing next to the mad man screams, NO! No, you will not! Shoot yourself! Be GONE! And in that every moment the deranged mad man put the sliver hand gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He fell hard to ground. Just like that he was dead. I wanted to open my eyes and wake from this nightmare… it felt to real!
Right then everyone in the schoolhouse looked up at me, watching them and I shot up in bed. Cold sweat, breathing fast, heart pounding. What the hell was that?
She can see us…
If you see someone committing suicide in your dream, this means that you are trying to escape from that influence probably exerted by another person on you. Spiritually, suicide in a dream is a sign of offering. This dream is not connected in any way to suicide in the real life. A suicide dream generally occurs as well when the dreamer is “ending” a phase that is important in life. This could be a relationship alternatively it could denote a new job in life. From a conscious perspective the dream of a suicide can be associated with the symbolic process of letting go of a bad habit.
Sometimes, in life we suffer from immense depression, this is only natural. We all have challenges and difficulties in life and sometimes we do feel that we need a way out. Being mentally unstable in the dream suggests that “life in general” has taken its toll. It could be that you are having suicidal thoughts in waking life and this is why the dream has appeared. It indicates that you are focused on radically changing, in essence, ending whatever it is that is causing you concern. When we look at suicide we are also associating the dream with how you used to be in the past and how you are now in the future.
All I have to say now is I feel a bit different. Less frantic, no more tears, or worry. Did part of me just died?