Screaming Over


I’ve removed the contest from the last post. I thought it might be a chance to share a little and snicker at the zombies/vampires/cross dressers in our collective subconscious but the statistics say otherwise. Bad idea. According to site stats, gobs of folks looked at the post and walked away with nary a comment.

So sorry! I’ll post something more traditional about dreams further along. For now, I’ll go fight my own alligators 🙂

13 responses »

  1. That we didn’t comment didn’t mean we didn’t connect — remember you’re speaking for women who have no voice.

    I recently had an actual zombie dream, very Hollywood-ish so I assume more the result of watching too many movies than anything else.

    The only dreams that scared the crud out of me were the ones in which he somehow thought he had a chance to keep me trapped in his prison. I remember even after we were divorced – like 2 years after — we were in the same room (rarity) talking to someone and 2x in the conversation he referred to me as his wife. Present tense.

    One time I’ll call it a mistake, two and the dementor has my attention. Add to that that for months after we split up he would put “ILY” before his name in emails (stands for I love you…) Once I broke his “code” I read him the riot act.

    We live in the nightmare; fortunately some of us awake to the dream. The dream of living without them, forever more.

    Dream on, dear Ida!

    • Yeah, but I got to thinking later that the whole idea of a contest was totally lame. I mean, how do you have a contest on something like that? I was thinking more along the lines of ‘I can top that one’ where everyone’s sitting around the campfire tossing popcorn at each other but in truth, some of this stuff is incredibly painful.

      Sometimes my sensitivity meter needs recalibration 🙂

      • Hey, I’m in marketing, people love contests, 🙂 and I love you. What you failed to realize is that that is one contest NO ONE wants to win. Now there’s a title for a blog post…

  2. Actually, Ida Mae, I didn’t think of it as a serious contest and wanted to share my particular dream, but it is a little strange, and I was having second thoughts. Maybe others were feeling the same way.

    The dream after my divorce was final – at that point, my four kids were between the ages of 7 and 14.

    In my dream, my then-husband (John) was driving a speed boat at full speed across a lake. Our two sons were seated behind him, holding on, and our two daughters and I were in the back of the boat huddled together. The boat was going far too fast and bouncing hard off the lake, and the only one who was enjoying it was John. In an instant the boat was gone along with John and the boys. My daughters and I were suddenly treading water in an enormous, deep swimming pool. The water was crystal clear, and glancing down I saw sharks at the bottom of the pool. As soon as I saw them, they began to swim toward us. I told my daughters to swim to the side of the pool with everything they had. I knew I had to get their first in order to help my youngest daughter get out of the water. My eldest was close behind me, but the little one was struggling. The sharks were getting closer, and I was terrified. When I got to the edge, I pulled myself out of the pool. Charla pulled herself out as well, but the sharks’ mouths were open and they were headed right for my little girl’s legs, and she was tired. Just as the sharks were ready to strike, Amberly reached out for me, and I reached down, grabbed her little arms and pulled her from the water with a strength not my own.

    Immediately, I woke up, and I prayed, “What did it mean, Lord?” And instantly, I knew what it all meant.

    The boat was our life as a family. In that life, John was the only one that mattered. What we wanted or needed was irrelevant. The boys wanted to be close to him, but he made it difficult. When we were instantly in the water, the emphasis was on my daughters. We needed a man’s protection, and John had abandoned us and left us unprotected. The sharks were the forces in the world that wanted to destroy us. I was strong and knew what I had to do, and Charla had enough knowledge and spiritual strength to make it, but Amberly was at risk and she was going to struggle in this time of transition, particularly in her faith, and I had to be the one to lead her and protect her, or she would be swallowed up by doubt and fear.

    It was a very telling dream, and everything it told me was true – and has come to pass. Charla’s faith is strong as is her will, and Amberly struggled with the divorce and her faith for several years, but she is healthy, happy and secure and knows the Lord now, and her stepfather provides the protection and fatherly relationship she so longed for.

    Anyway, there you have it.

    So, Ida Mae, are you gonna share yours or what?

    • I will! Maybe tomorrow, I’m headed back to bed to fight the pillows again. Although I’m thinking my zombie alligators were mighty awesome. Not sure I *want* to top that one.

      Although I did have a dream similar to the one you shared only it involved a pickup truck. I had it not long ago but in the dream, it was about three years into the marriage and I’m standing up in the bed of my husband’s pickup. I have both arms wrapped around the cab as if I’m trying to hold/hug the husband but the metal of the truck’s body is in the way. I can see that I’m speaking to him– or trying to– by leaning way over and trying to speak through the window. I can’t hear what I say, but I know they are words of kindness and affirmation.

      The husband is driving like a crazy man and I’m getting thrown all over the place, barely hanging on and he doesn’t care one bit. Never slows down, never lets me inside the truck. He doesn’t care if I’m thrown from the bed of the truck.

      • Sorry I’m so slow on the uptake. Your dream makes perfect sense. The pain and longing is so clear. I must have missed the zombie alligators. I’m going to try to find those on here.

  3. Most of the posts on my own blog get zero comments. Mind you, I probably don’t have the readership size that you do, but each of my posts average at least 50 reads and I get maybe 1 or 2 comments every dozen posts or so.

    I know they’re reading, and StatCounter shows that a lot of them are repeat offenders! 🙂 So that alone is encouraging, and I leave the posts up for my own reference and enjoyment, if not also for those who are yet to discover them.

    I vote “keep ’em up even if you don’t get comments”.

    And like Elizabeth Kraus commented earlier in this thread, “That we didn’t comment didn’t mean we didn’t connect — remember you’re speaking for women who have no voice.”

  4. Oops! I just re-read your post, Ida Mae, and realized you said you removed the “contest”, not the “content”. Glad you kept the content after all. I don’t know how to navigate very well on this site yet to go look for the last post. Anyway, I hope you never remove content. 🙂

  5. I wanted to tell you about my most recent horror-dream. It involved the demon from my life cutting off her arm and giving it to me so that she could control me from afar. I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it yet.

      • I threw it in the dumpster and she went diving for it, found it and brought it too me. Somehow she convinced me to carry it around for a while. And I did bring that bit of terror into my day until I realized it only had the power I was giving it. Out the curb it went again!

        Still pretty scary to think about — ugh.

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