clarentine | Exorcism, of a sort

We’re coming up on a family trip, and my subconscious has responded to the nearing deadline with an avalanche of disaster nightmares. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has these, and I wanted to share some of mine in the hopes that airing them will get them the hell out of my brain space.

Well, not just that, but also because this particular brand of nightmare has a basis in reality which those of us in the Southeastern US would be wise to learn from. Remember late August 2005, watching that big ball of clouds spin up and become Hurricane Katrina and take aim on New Orleans? Remember the video of jammed highways, cars abandoned for lack of gas, and worse – oh, worse – the images of people and animals likewise abandoned for lack of so many things?

We travel with our dogs, and so my nightmares are animal-specific.

I recognize that dreams are our subconscious minds’ attempt to prepare us to deal with chaos by having us work out our reactions in advance of an actual disaster. But really, Subconscious, I’ve done my homework. I don’t need to be visited nightly with the four-legged version of the Ghost of Christmas To Come, demanding I solve one major crisis after another. (Tornado coming; how to evacuate dogs and cats and chickens, oh my? A wall of fire descending on the farm. Floods. Lightning storms. You get the picture.)

I even know why this particular year’s iteration has been worse than previous years’: a relative’s dog was lost when he ran off while being walked off leash in a wilderness area, and a day later my own Kay bolted into the woods in back of our place after a rabbit and did not come back for twenty very scary minutes. And then there are the miserably unending earthquake aftershocks which still occasionally rattle the homestead.

Every time, I wake up with my heart in my throat after thrashing around while my mind works out the latest crisis-in-potentio. I lose sleep. My husband loses sleep. (The dogs and cats and chickens, fortunately, seem to be immune. Some days, I wouldn’t mind living in the now like dogs do.)

There are things I can do to lessen the odds of disaster and to increase the likelihood of good outcomes if chaos does strike, and you can bet I’ve taken note of each one of them. I do have an evacuation plan for the four-legged beings in my care. (The chickens, I’ve concluded, are safest right where they are in most circumstances. Doesn’t make the chickens-in-peril dreams go away, but I know I’ve done what I could to make sure they’ll be safe.)

So, Subconscious, see? I’ve learned. I am taking heed. Now let me be, please.