I’m late as hell in writing this since the dream happened, like, days ago. Either way, it was still worth sharing. The dream happened Sunday morning, and it was the second of my two most recent ‘driving’ dreams. I understood both, but this current one packed the most punch—literally.
It was late at night, and I believe I was doing one of my routine strolls around Baton Rouge. I was on Monterrey Dr. passing my old Spectrum gym when three sprinters the size of football players (an oxymoron in and of itself) began racing me in the other lane. I was driving a black 2005 Nissan Sentra, and it belonged to Darren, my mom’s fiancée. For some reason, I felt compelled to race the sprinters, but at the same time, I didn’t want to wreck Darren’s car. Nonetheless, I fled down Monterrey, beating the runners to the light on Greenwell Springs.
The light seemed to take forever, and I grew angrier and angrier, inching past the stopping line on the ground before the green arrows finally came up. By this point, I stomped on the gas, causing the Sentra to nearly tip over on its side as I turned that sharp corner. Scared for my life, I slowed down, almost coming to a complete stop by the Family Dollar a block away (It’s a Family Dollar in real life, but was some sort of mini Cabela’s in the dream). All three runners fled past me, and in seeing that, the most indescribable feeling came over me.
Defeated, I turned onto Joor as to head home. That’s when I saw the last and largest runner throw his middle finger up at me as they continued down Greenwell Springs. From there, my anger turned into some sort of violent rage. I began screaming and cursing out my window, and just as I tried to drive off, there he was in my rear-view mirror. The runner charged at me, yanking me out of the car, and before he was able to land the first punch, I woke up.
Okay, let’s dig in…
I’ve become a lot more aware of the nuances of my dreams lately. To me, this one was a clear reference to things that I still haven’t gotten over. Driving usually represents the direction in life. I was driving at night, however, which can symbolize a lack of certainty; all of this rings true in my waking life. In addition, I was in a car, which could also refer to a sense of safety. The racing represents my competitive spirit, both literally and spiritually. However, the car turning over could represent a loss of control over the situation. In essence, I was fighting a losing battle—a fight that didn’t need to be had.
I could have taken the easy way out and continued to race them, letting my ego get the best of me. But I knew I had lost, so angrily I retreated and lashed out in the process. The big guy was about to punch me in a way that would make Ben Henderson look like a weakling. Being punched in a dream almost always represents powerlessness; I was fighting a losing battle—a fight that didn’t need to be had. It’s been two years, and I still haven’t gotten past the so-called “series of situations” that have fucked up my entire social life, my entire sense of being. However, it’s not so simple as ‘moving on.’ The last thing I want to do is put myself in the same situations again. Maybe it’s some sort of emotional trauma, but at this stage of the game, it’s something that I’m stuck with.
Actually, let’s keep it real: the three runners in my dream were likely the three people that kick-started these feelings. In the dream, the runners were a team that I remember egging me on. The largest guy was at the end, likely a connection to the person who affected me the most. In reality, it was a friend of five years, along with two people I met through him. I ended those friendships after I lost my black 2005 Ford Focus.
During the span of 2007 to 2012, I was torn between staying true to my reserved ways, and acting out as to compete with people I neither liked nor trusted. But as I matured and became more aware, I grew fed up with doing things that went against my character. Either way, this was an environment I had become accustomed to; I knew of nothing else, and as the dream reminds me, I didn’t want to lose the race.
As I said, I lost my beloved car in the midst of it all. The accident took place the night of August 24th, 2012 while on the way to have a discussion with one of the people. I verbally ended the “friendships” with two of them after that, but to the original friend, the one of five years, I said nothing. I didn’t approach him because we’ve had our conversations over and over again. No matter how prepared I was, he always managed to do the rope-a-dope, something that he does to everyone. I refused to let that happened, so I let the anger stew inside me for two years.
Since then, I have expressed myself to this person. They did just as I wanted them to, coming to me and acknowledging that there was a problem. But that doesn’t mean the anger magically disappeared. In addition, I still harbor ill will towards the other two people, and though I barely knew them, one was a total gamer and the other could have put me in some very dangerous situations.
This dream was yet another extension of that painful situation, but what sucks is that this is something that I will never truly get over. Rather, I’m unsure of how to let it go. I should also add that Darren doesn’t even own a Sentra…
**UPDATE: Just before posting this, my mom got some counseling from a family friend. Her dreams are similar, and our friend emphasized how these dreams tend to serve as reminders of the past, ensuring that one continues on a path away from it. I would express my own dreams with our friend, but the deeper details are beyond what I’m comfortable sharing.
Check out my first forays into the Baton Rouge media market — I designed the new virtual set for ‘MyScene TV,’ a local lifestyle show airing Thursdays at 11:30pm on WBHX 16. In addition, I am producing segments for ‘BRCC Today,’ a program airing Fridays at 5pm on Metro21. Please read my other blogs, follow me on Twitter and check out my work on here, YouTube and SoundCloud.