Welcome to Crazy Town

OK, so I never can remember my dreams. I might remember one or two a year, and even so, it's all very foggy. This dream I had last night was as clear as day.

My therapist, Nancy Whiteley LPC told me to pay attention to my emotions and dreams throughout the week and bring them back to her on Monday to analyze together.

My dream ...

Jenn Campbell was laying in a hospital bed in the gown they normally give you with an ugly geometric pattern. There was another person there. I think it was either Jennifer Lewis or Amy Shroades. The three of us were conversing and laughing. The mood was light. Jenn was wearing her wig and was attempting to pencil in her eyebrows. She was doing a horrible job ... she was pressing so hard that her skin was turning pink. The line being drawn was dropping down toward her ear.

I moved to her side and sat on the edge of her bed. I started to rub the pencil from her temple, although it wasn’t coming off. She kept saying "It hurts." I asked, "Am I hurting you?" And she just kept repeating, "It hurts." This went on for awhile and I felt myself panicking because I couldn’t make sense of what was hurting her. Was it me?

Next, two male nurses, or medical professionals came into the room. (Even in my dreams I try to be very PC.) It was like they were "prepping" Jenn for surgery or a procedure. They swarmed around her like bees. I found myself straightening my back and paying close attention to every move they made. One of the men was Asian (not that it matters), and began cutting the back of her wig. Jenn was allowing him to continue and just stared at me helplessly. I told him to stop, but it was as though he couldn't hear or understand me. I began screaming at him to stop and to leave her alone. I was shaking. My heart was racing and I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I finally got physical and shoved him to get him away from Jenn. I was so angry and was crying. I felt like I was responsible for protecting Jenn. No one else could possibly understand. She was mine to protect. It was such a strange and primal feeling.

Next thing I knew, Matt and I were attending Whitney Houston's memorial service, although it was taking place outdoors on a very green hill. I was wearing a black hood similar to the one Whitney wore in 'The Bodyguard.' They asked if anyone had visited Ireland last March when Whitney was there. (I have no idea if she was really there or not.) We raised our hands and they ushered us back into a private museum. I felt overwhelmed and sad. (And why had no one verified that we had actually been in Ireland in March 2011? They were just taking us at our word? Is this crazy town?). I was crying in the dream and so was Matt. He had his arm around me as we walked through the museum and I pressed into his side.

It wasn’t until I was in the shower this morning that I recalled the dream. I was washing my hair and as I normally do, I looked at the abandoned strands of my dark hair wrapped around my fingers like a web. My hands were shaking and I felt my breathing quicken as I worked quickly to remove the tangled hair from my fingers. My head became dizzy and just as quickly as panic set in I felt my subconscious rewind back to retell the dream I had just had. There was no panic attack in the shower this morning, but I was left with a perplexing feeling.