My husband is standing at the edge of a lake (I think it's a lake) and I am in the water. It is cold, but not freezing, and I start to sink. I call out, but am already under water. The breath I take in fills my lungs with water, and I sink slowly downward, the light dimming and dancing before my eyes while I reach up with my hands, but sodden as I am, they do not work to pull me up to the surface. I wake from the vivid dream to a snoring husband, and a need to sit up and breathe.
Mick tells me the next morning I was making weird noises in my sleep. "Yeah," I tell him, "I was drowning, and you didn't save me."
When I look up "drowning in dreams" online, the most common interpretation is that the person who dreams this feels overwhelmed. Welcome to my life.
In April 2010, we jumped into the deep end and brought home our daughters from Ethiopia at ages 3 and 4 years old. Almost a year into parenting, I sometimes feel like I'm barely treading water to keep up with their energy levels, questions (and, boy, are there many!), household chores and the dog. I also had to shutter our fair trade shop, and give up working, to stay at home with the girls to bond and help them adjust.
The one interpretation of the dream I had which seems best to me, is that if no one jumps in to save you, and you drown, you will experience a rebirth. This fits in with my decision to take a photography course to improve my knowledge of photography and give myself one thing outside the home that has nothing to do with being a wife, mother or dog owner.
So, here's to being born again. And, taking big, huge breaths for myself instead of waiting for someone to save me.
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