I didn't make an entry in this blog yesterday because I couldn't think of how my dreams related to other things.
I don't think it's uncommon. I think that sometimes when I try to analyze my dreams, my brain blocks out certain connections on purpose -- at least for a while.
Anyhow, I did think of at least two connections to my first dream in yesterday's journal entry.
The first connection is pretty obvious to me. I submitted an an adult baby themed short story on the Smashwords.com self-publishing site about a week ago. I'm waiting for my story to get approved for broader distribution. So I'm having all the normal anxiety with that.
Thus the image in the dream of the book being disapproved because it had illegal material in it. Not that my little story has anything illegal in it. But I'm always worried that people would find some way to make me feel really, really bad about anything creative I do.
The second connection is the connection to methodone. I read the paper copy of my hometown paper, The Denver Post, every Saturday and Sunday.
On Sunday (June 10, 2012), the Post had a long article about a center for helping people under the age of eighteen get over their substance abuse problems. The place is called Synergy Adolescent Treatment Services. The article focused on two young men who were really making a lot of progress in getting over their substance abuse issues.
One of the steps the article mentioned for helping the young people get over their addictions was the use of small doses of methodone. This image was, for some reason, very powerful to me. And so it filtered into my dream.
The story of the two young men, who are brothers, stuck with me, I believe, because I felt a lot like them. There is one point in time where one of the young men mentions things that he had to learn just to get on track in life -- things that a lot of other people take for granted: things like budgeting, getting groceries, being on time for work, and finding a safe place to live.
My life has not been as intense as the lives of the two young men. But I do sympathize a lot with what the young man said in this respect. All my life I've thought of so many of the normal things normal people do as "magic." When I try to explain that to people, they have no idea what I mean. Just being able to do a lot of the things that normal adults do to take care of themselves does seem like "magic" to me.
I think that's at least part of the reason I am an adult baby. I fantasize about being re-born and re-raised. I fantasize about somehow not being so dull the second time around that I miss understanding how normal people do normal things.
Now, I think my reading from the Sunday Post also influenced today's dream journal entry.
My dream starts out in some place that I think of as either a daycare or a school. Eventually I think of it as just a daycare. But this "daycare" has a huge fence around it that reminds me of the huge fences around prisons!
I'm assigned as a caretaker within this prison/daycare. But, given my body height (at least for part of the dream) and the fact that I'm wearing a diaper, it seems like I'm also either a child or an adult baby in this dream. So I'm like a child being sent to protect other children.
Like an idiot, I can't find the article now. But I was reading about how, in Syria, groups of children are setting themselves up as protectors against the military forces that are invading the schools. So these students are children protecting children. They are child caretakers of children. I think I tried to imagine myself in this situation.
One article on msn.com today showed an even worse situation for children in Syria.
This situation is powerful enough, I would think, to give anybody intense dreams. But I think the image of children protecting children stuck with me. Everybody talks nowadays about the Hunger Games series. People always mention how it's about "children killing children" or "kids killing kids."
It struck me that we have plenty of situations, all over the world, where kids are killing kids, where kids are killing adults, or where adults are killing kids. So when people talk about the Hunger Games, they're really only talking about what's actually taking place all over the world right at this moment.
But it struck me that in this situation, we had kids protecting kids, however they could.
It's not exactly uplifting, because the forces these kids are trying to protect themselves against are so powerful. But it still gave me hope that, while adults always talk about kids killing kids, kids themselves -- at least somewhere in this world -- are taking the initiative -- for whatever it's worth -- to protect each other.
It's not exactly uplifting, because the forces these kids are trying to protect themselves against are so powerful. But it still gave me hope that, while adults always talk about kids killing kids, kids themselves -- at least somewhere in this world -- are taking the initiative -- for whatever it's worth -- to protect each other.
Of course, part of my idea about being an adult baby is that, with the violence of this world, and seeing violence all over the world, some people, like myself, would tend to shelter themselves from this violence as well as they could by retreating back into a childlike state of mind.
So I think that this whole strange daycare/prison compound of my dream is something like the protective area of my psyche. Inside this protected area are the childhood parts of myself. There aren't any adults allowed. So, even if other adults want me to do them the favor of letting them inside, I can't. I have to be in with the childhood parts of myself, and I have to take care of the childhood parts of myself.
But, even still, we're all in a pretty scary area.
But, even still, we're all in a pretty scary area.
I think of the person in the wheelchair as being a "wheelchair pretender." I just learned about this fetish recently. But I think it's a lot like the adult baby fetish. In this fetish, a person pretends to be in need of things like wheelchairs, crutches, and so forth. People who play with this fetish sometimes also wear adult diapers.
I think that this fetish, like the adult baby fetish, deals partly -- though not on all levels -- with the idea of being in such a violent world, and being so bombarded with violence, that a need arises to shelter oneself from that violence.
With adult babies, the sheltering comes from taking on the mindset of a person at the age where one would be (one hopes) cared for and protected from the violence. With wheelchair pretenders, the sheltering seems to come from acting like a person who has already experienced the violence, and is now convalescing from it, and who would need to be sheltered from any additional violence.
The pottying in the dream I think comes from the YouTube video below.
I like the video. But I have to admit that it scared the crap out of me. Forced bondage isn't my thing. Even though I think I would like to be bound into a crib or playpen sometimes, so I would feel helpless, I wouldn't like it to be in such a scary situation. The Mommy in this video was also quite frightening to me -- she scared the hell out of me, to be quite honest with you.
But the pottying scene stuck with me. The man in the video makes such a big deal out of pottying his diapers -- I could really feel him pottying. And the video is all made like you are seeing from the man's point of view. So that makes the sensations even easier to feel.
I often have dreams of being in a library. A lot of times the library I'm in is the Rose Main Reading Room of the Schwarzman branch of the New York Public Library.
But other times, I'm in a library like a library in an old mansion. This always reminds me of the library room within the Morgan Library. The library in this dream was more like the library room proper of the Morgan Library. But I'm not sure what that means.
