Hostage

[Midlander]

I dreamt that I visited a house where a young, foreign artist was being held hostage by someone who was exploiting him. The house was like a squat - untidy, a matress on the floor, possessions scattered around. The man who was keeping the hostage captive was voilent and threatened him with exposing his illegal status.

In the dream I saw this but my response was to go away and get drunk; not to go to the police. I wandered the streets of a city in a drunken state, finally throwing up in a bin by a bus stop.

I sobered up and went back to the house to do something to help but it was empty; the hostage and captor were gone. The hostage's room was clean and tidy - the personal possessions were gone and the bed was made.

[Tony Crisp]

I had a very strong feeling that you are the hostage that had been held, along with your artistic abilities.

The drunken state was you meeting the awful state most of us are in within ourselves. Then the vomiting was a release and so you came back to a new start.

As I remind people, the dream is like a fetus, it takes time to mature enough to be alive in our everyday life.

Tony

[Midlander]

Thank you Tony - that helps; it was a very powerful dream - it left me quite disturbed. What you say makes sense and is helpful.

[Midlander]

  Somehow the changes I begin to make in my life that I am managing come out really scary and challenging in my dreams.    Is this one about the implications inside me, I wonder or is it simply about getting older and learning to become more united within myself? Could it be that the older 'me' wants to bring her femininity and sexuality into the new life but the younger 'me' doesn't want it? Or something else? I can't help but feel these two women are a little reminiscent of the two wolves in the cherokee story!

There were two women; one in her 30s or 40s who was dark haired and strong willed and a bit sharp and unpleasant. The other, grey haired and gentle and obliging.

The darker haired woman had a large house and her female friends were moving in with her but the grey haired woman, who wanted to move was saying how she couldn't do so without her dear, old, blue persian cat - and the dark haired woman didn't want the cat.

The dark haired woman poisoned the cat but I saw this and intervened; I grabbed the cat and made it cough up the piece of bread with the poison on. The cat was saved.

The dark haired woman gave in and the cat moved into her house with the grey haired woman. However, there was some sort of party or gathering and the friends lined up for a photo and the dark haired woman took the chance to grab the cat (without the grey haired woman seeing) and she tried to strangle it. The cat struggled and scratched the woman very badly and then escaped into a field. The grey haired woman was distraught; she looked at the deep scratches on the hands and legs of the dark haired woman and expressed how dreadful the wounds were. She looked into the field wondering where her cat was and not understanding why he would have done such a thing.


I'm editing to add a comment: I've been looking at this literally in terms of the ages of the women and thinking that the older woman is me now but could she be the 'old' me? Perhaps I am struggling with the 'new' me (who is of course actually older in literal terms)? The 'new' me is tougher, less of a walkover. Over the last few months I've begun to be less of a people pleaser; less 'agreeable' in psychological terms - I am a little more comfortable with people not liking me or what I say. I am less inclined to give in to unreasonable expectations. The cat is a blue-grey colour so this could tie in with fear, gloominess or depression if I take your dictionary interpretations literally...This colour but a long haired cat:



and when I say it looked unkempt, it looked a bit like this



The cat is 'old' too; so perhaps my attitudes to affection, sex and sexuality, religion ....these are all changing. BUT the cat fights for its life and survives and I also save its life. It is being poisoned by something - bread is something a cat wouldn't usually eat and indeed, it's hard to poison a cat. Bread - stuff of life and of ritual. The cat is a symbol of affection and as someone who loves cats, a positive thing. It is also the survival instinct and the predator. It leaves deep wounds. It runs off into the wild.

Also, dividing these two women is a cat. The cat is Persian; I've never owned a persian cat, so I don't really know much about them - I've ended up doing a search for more info now! It was old and a bit unkempt looking. It occurs to me that this breed is modified and somewhat removed from its natural state.

The dream felt really quite disturbing.

[Tony Crisp]

Well Midlander – Quite a story.

I have to go with my intuition with this one, and bring it down to its basics. As you say there is a struggle between the dark haired and the grey haired you. And the strong murderous feelings centre around killing the cat – at least trying to. And the fact that you poison it and then try to strangle it says to me that the struggle is about killing out the grey cat. Blue Persian is a sort of grey. And so I sense that this is about an attempt to kill the older/aged type of sexual feelings –natural for an older cat. So quite a struggle goes on, especially if you are very attached to your physical appearance as it was in the past. Wow – all that murderous rage. I think this piece from a feature might explain a lot: http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/nightmares/#menopuase

Tony

[Midlander]

Thanks Tony - I'll take a look. There were more cats being murdered and saved last night - dark ones, this time. Cats are an important part of my life, so maybe it's about what they mean to me as well as generally in this one. When it's not cats, it's horses at the moment.  

"So if you dare to grow beyond your present maturity, you are bound to have a few nightmares. Try to see what they say about you. You have nothing to lose but your fear."

It's interesting because I've just had a significant birthday and yet am not particularly preoccupied with this in waking life. It is presumably, therefore, coming out in my dream life and making me conscious of it. What is interesting, is that as I get older, I feel more liberated and independent, rather than less. I am more aware of my attractiveness and more accepting of who I am and what I look like. There is a freedom and a power in ageing as a woman. Eventually, people have to take you more seriously and have less chance to patronise - although some still try! So there is a power, potency and confidence in middle age that isn't there in youth. Yet, there must also be transition and loss. Our society so focuses its sense of beauty on youth and thinness; as women age (and men too, perhaps) it is tempting to give in to the increasingly popular option of fake youth. It's missing the point, though; there is a different and richer beauty with age.

A question though; it's also me that saves the cat (and 'real' me - I intervened from my observer status) and me who loves it and wants to keep it. So surely this isn't just about the me that is fighting the approach of age and is feeling the murderous rage? It feels like it's a conflict, too.