My dreams begin to decrease in frequency, especially as I move in with Nilly and escape my terrible situation. We begin to date. My illness worsens and I develop severe psychosomatic pain and fatigue, and flashbacks and dissociation are out of control. I start ketamine therapy, which proves to be extremely valuable for my improvement, though the city we are stuck in now, and the ketamine, is causing me to dream even less.
Nightmare. A horse crashes through my glass door. I wake with a terrible cry.
Some kind of vision. Entry unclear: 'Weird vision a couple weeks ago. Seen myself glowing through my eyes, closed. Asleep. Very startling.'
The best flying dream i've ever had. I am in the pasture, heading out on some adventure with friends. I am skimming low over the grass and hills in the glowing evening sun, playing with virgil. I climb a tree and am shocked to find a woman recording us. She tells me, 'YOU KNOW I GIVE YOU WINS SOMETIMES?' I snatch the tape from her and fly off, astonished. The tape unravels but I still see many blissful scenes of my friends and family. I cry and show Nilly. I finally have 'proof.' Proof of what?
We are having a family reunion in Ohio, like when I was a child. Everyone is there. I ride my old horse a little, but I have no stirrups and it is difficult. He gets angry at me later in his stable, and tries to bite me. My brother is there, and I hate him, and we head to the house. I try to shove my hand in his mouth. At the house, everyone is out front. My late grandmother is there, sitting serenely, and I touch her arm, and try to put my sunhat on her head, but she doesn't want it to disturb her bonnet. Others are recording her but I don't have my camera, and I flee the house crying. I can never go back.
First dream since starting ketamine therapy in July. Nilly and I are driving on the highway, and he keeps making frightening mistakes, with a strange expression on his face, ignoring me as I become angry and fearful. I urge him to pull over as he swerves from an ambulance passing us. As he attempts to pull over, we suddenly shoot out over a plane of muddy water, skidding out of control and flying from the car. I brace Nilly's head in slow motion and we roll to safety in the mud. Nilly starts to vomit a mealy red substance in a steady, forceful flow, and I do the same. People have gathered, staring. I am disoriented and can't see from the effects of ketamine until my mother's dog licks my face. She must have been driving behind us. The police conclude that it was an accident and I can't explain anything due to the torrent of red flooding from my mouth.
I am an orphan boy somewhere in England, early 20th century. I am Irish. I had found my way to a horse farm, and was helping out with the work. I sit on the fence watching horses with a woman, thinking about drawing them. I watch them leap and twist magnificently, and say I would love to ride them, and that I love the feeling of their tense muscles pounding under me as the galloped. She said, 'OH? WELL THEN, GO RIDE!' She saddled a horse named James and I mounted him. I told her I hadn't used a bit like this before, nor any of this racing gear. Then I was off. I couldn't get my right foot entirely into the stirrup, but it was better than i'd even ridden in a dream yet. I leaned in, thundering down my childhood road, towards grandma's. Everyone was cheering and the woman laughed that I was a natural. A boy asked if I was based off of a book of someone lost from Ireland? I dismount and an old man approaches me. He tells me his name, and mine was John James Oliver(?). He told me that he wanted me to have his old glasses. 'WHEN YOU GROW UP THEY'LL LOOK BETTER ON YOU.' 'Don't say that,' I replied, crying in gratitude and sorrow that I would have to go(wake up from the dream) soon. We had a long, deep hug. They felt deeply like family, and had given me a name. 'Will I ever stop coming here?' I asked. He smiled and said, 'AH, NO. YOU'LL HAVE PLENTY OF ADVENTURES.'
I am the leader of a community in a forest by the sea, high up along a cliff. At the beginning of the dream, I witness a battle where an albatross had been killed in the crossfire. As I am also the shaman, it is my job to tend to the matter. I pull out a wing feather for my collection, and accidentally pull two. I thank it. I intend to transform into an eagle and fly over the sea to bless and dispose of it, but there is a problem. It seems my powers of shapeshifting have been transferred to the woman who is helping me. Now I am controlling both her and I, and I can't become a bird or fly. Annoyed I had to walk, we go to the others to explain the situation. On the way along one of the paths leading up the hill, in the thinner forest coming from the field, rested a copperhead. I could see a woman and children approaching, and fiercely told them to stop because of the snake, and they are frightened. I angrily ask the others why such a deadly snake is here, as this was the second time it had been seen, and children could be hurt. They don't seem bothered, which irritate me, and the serpent slithers off. I continue up the path into the deeper forest where the stone buildings were, and spoke to others about the earlier problems. I ask the woman's name, because I always forgot. 'MIHO,' they said. I said I didn't think that was it.
A shaman is visiting. I am planning to take him to an island with a river and tell him something. My mother is angry that I am not sharing with her what is going on. Finally we depart, and I had thought it was going to be night, but it is morning. We cross a dry, grassy plain and come to a ranch to get horses. We stand outside and a woman approaches me first. I climb into the pen with her, and she warns me about the horse. A fierce, blazing, cream-colored mare charges out. She is so intense. I walk up to her and put my hand out in a stop sign, and she halts. Then she becomes fierce again, and I am scared. They had tried to put a saddle on her but I couldn't even get close. Someone told me the owner is a 'workaholic' and to master this horse, I would have to spend hours taming her. I asked the owner what the trade off is to having this horse instead of the ordinary ones. She scoffs and says something about how my horse is so much better, stronger, faithful, and more intelligent. The others were tamer and more brown. She is a light yellowish cream, proud and tall, like an akhal-teke. The woman becomes mad at me and tells me to go if I don't have the guts. I ask her why she chose this horse for me. She presents some sort of broken medicine needle filled with a substance, like medicine I have used for virgil. It is confusing. She says something about how she has been watching me for a long time, and she knew. I ask for how long, and she said that she has known me my whole life. At this point we are in a dark hallway, and the mare appears on the other end, and slowly walks toward me. I had become sad for some reason, and she approaches me gently and puts her head over my shoulder. I hug her deeply and rub her soft, supple, strong muscles and fur. I cry and say 'I'm afraid I will never see you again.' I distantly know it is a dream, as I often do. The others are shocked she is so kind and gentle with me. I swing up onto her bareback easily, and we are one. We trot through the house, trying to find a way out, but the doors are too low. Finally we squeeze through the front door and onto the streets. Children from the neighborhood are staring in awe. I ride her easily, but can't get her to move past a walk. She responded somewhat to my foot cues to turn, and we ride up the driveway, coming to a city sidewalk. Then she vanishes. I stand there in shock, and my eyes fill with tears as other look for her. Additional details: I was afraid to talk to the shaman. It took a very long time to get ready to go, and I was frustrated. A couple others were tagging along, more cheerful than me, and I just wanted to vulnerable and share my thoughts, but it didn't happen. I was weak and wanted to get on the horses. My horse allowed only those she found capable and respected to ride her. My reaction to fearing the loss of my mare was the same as I experienced with the old man of my last horse ranch dream. I had trouble getting all the way onto the mare. I jumped on easily, but finding balance was difficult.
I am in the underbelly of a castle, traversing a half flooded corridor. I hop across stones and gaze into the deep water around me, brimming with strange fish.
My late grandmother is there, no longer a ghost, but alive. We are at the cemetery, and I ask her where little odds and ends went. We hug, and I try to kiss her, but can't. I argue with my mother about mowing. She had cut down the wildflowers, but I want to plant more so we don't have to mow at all.