I have a reoccurring one that I get a few times a year for the past 20ish years. I’m nervous about sharing it for fear that it may trigger the dream but I want to contribute.
It’s dusk and I’m around twelve years old standing with my parents on a large square stone structure that stands just higher than the trees in the massive forest that surrounds it. Imagine a medieval castle wall or the Great Wall of China if it were square.
The only other people there are a few skeletal “caretakers” wearing Asian rice hats that obscure their faces. They quietly sweep with big push brooms and keep to themselves.
In each corner of the structure is a 3x5ft hole with steps that lead down about 10ft ending at a black, lightless, drop-off.
I’m always standing on that last step before the void, looking up at my parents who are at the top impatiently waiting for me to jump. I tell them I’ve changed my mind and that I want to go home but they’re holding me to my word and won’t let me come back up. I usually wake up and that point and feel pretty depressed.
When I was around that age my dad walked in on me pulling the trigger on his.45 pistol I’d had against my head. I didn’t know to pull back the slide first to load it. He was, understandably, very mad. I feel this dream is related to that event somehow. I think I’ll probably continue to have it until he dies. I’m almost 40 years old it has to end sometime.
I have a reoccurring one that I get a few times a year for the past 20ish years. I’m nervous about sharing it for fear that it may trigger the dream but I want to contribute.
It’s dusk and I’m around twelve years old standing with my parents on a large square stone structure that stands just higher than the trees in the massive forest that surrounds it. Imagine a medieval castle wall or the Great Wall of China if it were square.
The only other people there are a few skeletal “caretakers” wearing Asian rice hats that obscure their faces. They quietly sweep with big push brooms and keep to themselves.
In each corner of the structure is a 3x5ft hole with steps that lead down about 10ft ending at a black, lightless, drop-off.
I’m always standing on that last step before the void, looking up at my parents who are at the top impatiently waiting for me to jump. I tell them I’ve changed my mind and that I want to go home but they’re holding me to my word and won’t let me come back up. I usually wake up and that point and feel pretty depressed.
When I was around that age my dad walked in on me pulling the trigger on his.45 pistol I’d had against my head. I didn’t know to pull back the slide first to load it. He was, understandably, very mad. I feel this dream is related to that event somehow. I think I’ll probably continue to have it until he dies. I’m almost 40 years old it has to end sometime.