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They’re Just Dreams

Just over a year ago, I had a dream that T&R had put Nadira into an institution because she had been diagnosed with depression, at the ripe old age of 4. The dream took place in the institution – I was standing in a room with T, looking through a one-way mirror into a room where Nadira sat on a chair in a circle with several other children, who were presumably there for the treatment of similar ailments. There was a woman there too, on her own chair in the circle. She was talking to the kids, and Nadira was sitting there calmly listening, but I lost it. I began to cry, and begged T to bring her home. I told her that I knew it was hard, but that we’d all help her, and please please don’t keep Nadira in there, please bring her home.

I woke up from that dream crying, and called T immediately to make sure Nadira was okay, which of course, she was.

Almost exactly a year later, I have another dream. This time, I’m on the second floor of a school, looking through a window into the gymnasium on the first floor. Nadira is there, as she is now at 5 years old, in her gym class with several other girls. Nadira is content playing on her own, but I can her the other girls talking behind her back, saying “she’s so mean” and “she’s so selfish, she never shares” and “I hate her”. Then one of the girls walks up behind Nadira, grabs her by the hair, throws her on the floor and proceeds to beat on her. And nobody does anything. I begin crying and screaming for somebody to help, but for the few more moments that I lived this dream, nobody helped her, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

Again, I woke up crying hysterically. I couldn’t even talk for several minutes to explain why I was crying – probably not a nice situation for the company I kept that night to wake up to himself.

I relayed this dream to T, and we talked about the similarities to the dream I had the year before. Nadira being in a bad situation, being unable to help, always watching from the outside. Nadira of course is fine, and T asked the inevitable question: “Are you sure these dreams are about Nadira? Maybe in your dream she represents someone else…maybe you?”

Nadira is a crazy, kooky, amazing kid. She’s loud and outgoing, and in many of her loud and boisterous ways, she’s like neither of her parents. They are both so easy going and relaxed, and she’s always on 11. She does remind me a lot of me when I was little. Maybe it is me in the dreams after all.


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