My mind’s haze projected a vision of gray tints. Heartache from the death of my friend pressed deeply on my chest. I sobbed but tears failed to appear; but, the heavy and unsteady inhalations and exhalations were ever so apparent. Like scenes from a movie (a movie so unknown and unpredictable), my visualizations swayed into new settings but the depression remained. I hastily packed a big duffel bag for Japan. I didn’t realize until later, packing my belongings in a duffel bag is so uncharacteristic of me. I’m a backpacker. Why not a backpack instead of a heavy, uneasy, overflowing duffel bag? Uprooting life to Japan felt exciting but devastating, probably similar to the feeling a young puppy might feel (if a young puppy could understand) being taken from its mother into a new, unknown home.
In yet another grey blocked scene, my heart felt heavy but strong(er). The strength within my heart made me question the sequence of events. Maybe this scene set me in the future, months after my friend’s death? My thoughts kept finding interruptions. I lacked to pack any jewelry. Thinking of only jewelry in a time like this makes me laugh. Separation from my home, my family, my friends, my love crept so suddenly and my mind’s eye could only consider menial ideas. My movie, my scenes enveloped a feature of depression. I remember heaviness but warmth. I recall heartache but relaxation. The mountains, fresh air, wildlife, trees, and trails called my name for a last goodbye as I boarded the plane.
The gray scenes start to brighten. I drift in and out of my visions. I wake up with a heavy heart, my physical being impacted by my mental imagination. The tones of separation and heartache loomed with me this morning. My hands type quicker and quicker trying to remember the details of my delusion.
My dream felt eye opening. What was my inner being trying to say? I searched dream interpretations on the internet. I could not fully accept the interpretations as truth because of the lack of structure and relevance, similar to seeking out a fortune teller to tell what wants to be heard. As I ponder my night’s adventures, I accept the storm my unconscious tried to communicate. I am the only one capable of deciphering the meanings of my dreams. The dream was not foreseeing the future but representing the present, my struggle with my emotions. Lately, I tend to stuff my frustrations in hope to alleviate my tantrums. No need to question the details such as why Japan, why the duffel bag, why jewelry. My unconscious needed an emotional release my current being has worked so hard to suppress.