When I was pregnant with both kids, I would have these bizarre, hormonally fueled dreams that, if interpreted, might have put me in the loony bin. When pregnant with my son, I dreamed that a man at WalMart exploded, raining down lettuce, bologna, and cheese. I’m pretty sure I was hungry.
Menopause seems to have kick-started the nocturnal hallucinations. Recently I dreamed that I went on a spaceship to a planet that looked a lot like “It’s a Small World” at Disney only there were lions and cheetahs and elephants walking around under a night sky.
Our rocket touched down, and we looked up and saw these beautiful stars. Then we stepped into smaller cars connected to a track, and we rode through our nighttime jungle. That was one of my happy dreams. Others provoke night sweats and cause me to sit straight up in bed, emanating weird, guttural screams.
For example, last night I dreamed that there were two men walking a large rodent with tusks through our neighborhood. As they walked down our gravel road, I saw a lion coming out of my front yard, skulking towards the rodent. I tried to call out to warn the men, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They thought the lion was funny and let go of the rodent’s leash.
Suddenly, the lion turned into a baby elephant. As the threat of the lion was gone, the rodent turned and attacked the elephant with its disgusting rodent tusks and destroyed it.
Now let’s analyze my crazy dream. Don’t be afraid, it can be done. The lion probably represents my fierce, menopausal personality, that apparently see men as large rodents that need to be annihilated.
The fact that the lion turns into a baby elephant means I’m acknowledging my middle-age spread, as my ferocity turns to fat.
Finally, I think it’s interesting that once I turn into the elephant the rodent kills me. Thanks a lot, guys. We gain a little weight and you chow down on our self-esteem. You dirty rats.
I’m not sure if these are meaningful dreams or simply hormonal hallucinations. I imagine these dreams refelct what it must have been like to do drugs in the 60’s. Maybe I can write something like “In-A-Gada-Da-Vida” after my next dream.
Tonight I will close my Kindle, close my eyes, and start my hormonal dream journey again. In the words of the great Bard –
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub