Tuesday, October 21, 2014


I was in Russia, visiting a college. There was a school of music at this college. It was a pretty unique campus. Some departments required uniforms. School uniforms. A red blazer and navy pants. There was an emblem on the blazers. I was just taking myself on a self-tour when I found an orchestra rehearsing in a concert hall. I poked my head in just as they were finishing music and then leaving the stage to pack up. The next thing happening in the concert hall was a sort of recital/master class. But you were expected to be very creative with your performance. The professor would kind of throw things your way and you would need to adjust to it. Improvisation. But you needed to disguise it so well that it did not appear to be improvisation. I was excited because this seemed like my gig. All of the emphasis in this school was based on creativity. I played for some professors and they were strongly encouraging me to stay and enroll. However, I was with a group and they were leaving soon. But I knew I needed to stay, so I sneaked behind. I thought the group wouldn't recognize my absence, but it turns out they knew the whole time and were listening to me through hidden recording devices. By the time I caught up with the group, they told me to stay there. They had listened and realized I was not meant for their group. I was touched that people had finally realized I was different and that I don't fit in a mold, even though I had been trying to fit in a mold for so long and had been trying so, so hard. They were impressed with my skills outside of the mold. So I stayed behind. However, I could not simply just enroll right then and there and stay for the next 4 years. I have a husband, and he's still in the states! We need to make sure we can afford to take four years off and live in a foreign country. I needed to learn more Russian so that I could communicate with the community. But the most immediate problem was that I needed to get home first. But my group had already left. Russia was very, very strict on making sure you have your representatives with you in order for you to travel and rest safely. I ended up being a part of an underground system filled with foreigners attempting to enter and exit the country for various reasons who did not have the necessary representatives. We sneaked onto trains, stayed in anonymous homes that offered couches and carpets for beds. I came across a family from Puerto Rico, and another from France. Many were headed to Japan but the train system had to stop in Russia in order for you to board a very high-tech high-speed train that zoomed across Asia and took you eastward.

I was finally caught up with my group and was on the tail end. However, since I no longer fit in their "mold", I was not exactly welcome to be on their train. But I hopped on anyway. I found many of my belongings had been tossed into an empty room. I gathered them up and carried them to my designated place on the train, looking for certain people.

The dream ended before I found them.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Death Sentence

I was in church. This was to be the last place I attend before my death. My death at the time and place it was to happen was entirely unavoidable. It was set-in-stone, bound to happen. No escaping. Just as simple as that. A fact of life. I was with my family. I wanted us to sit in a smaller pew because I knew who was coming and wanted to avoid having to face them. A smaller pew would not allow room for them. But my parents knew they were coming and said we needed to make room for them. My heart sank.
It was fast and testimony meeting. A lot of people I knew came to attend. They sang just one verse of the hymn, started on the second but the church leaders quickly signaled for it to end. There was a very quick opening prayer, followed by remarks from the bishop. They acknowledged my presence and asked for a vote of thanks. People stood up and raised their right hands. Then people began saying things about me that they liked. They started talking about me in the past.
It was very difficult to attend this. Listening to people speak of me as a memory was heart breaking. I did not want to leave. I was not ready to leave my husband, who for some reason was not there. I started to tear up, but managed to keep myself together.
Everybody was waiting for the arrival of President Obama. (I realize this sounds really funny, but in the dream, his presence was the source of my dread and anxiety.) For it was he who was sentencing me to death by means of lethal injection.
While waiting, people were going up to the stand to bear their testimonies. I was waiting for a good opportunity to go bear my testimony for the last time in this life. The purpose of that testimony would be to share my knowledge and spirit with those in attendance. It would also be what people would remember me by. And finally, I figured, what greater thing to do in this exact situation before death? Witnessing to the truth of the gospel to my friends and family, and many others in attendance who I did not know.
However, before I could go up and speak, the door to the chapel opened and in came the president and his wife. They came over to our pew and sat down. They allowed me to stay a little longer, but you could tell they were focused on the events to come.
I never got the chance to bear my final testimony.

Eventually I had to be taken away. I was so, so sad. I did not get to see my husband, but that was almost for the better because it was easier to keep myself put together this way. I would not go down without my dignity. I tried to prepare myself for what was to come. I knew my body was going to die but my spirit would not. I tried to prepare myself for what I was about to experience - the transition from this Earthly world to the Spirit world. The transition would not comfortable. Like being squeezed into this shapeless sack and rendered immobile.
Then, I was brought back to reality. I was told to sit in a chair. I began to refuse. Not only was I not going to go down without my dignity, I decided I was not going to go down without a fight.
It was the president's daughters administering the drug. I began to ask them questions about their ethics. Then, straining for want of reason, I asked "What did I do?" I was finally trying to figure out why this even had to happen. They did not want to tell me. They began to fear that I was about to discover something.

Then I attacked them. I don't remember all that happened, but I know I tugged at hair, yanked their heads down, and chucked the syringe as far away from me as I could.
The colors around me began to change. I don't know how, and I don't know what colors they were, but the atmosphere and mood colors around shifted.
Suddenly, those who were trying to put me to death were rendered immobile. It was done by God. They were trapped. They were literally far beneath me, and I literally walked up and away from the room.
I had been freed.
It was seen as a miracle.

I could look back at what I left, and it was all black and red. It was the grasp of Satan.
I returned to my family and live out the rest of my life with the responsibility of teaching others about God and his infinite power.


This dream had a positive ending, but there were so many twisted perspectives that I cannot explain through words. It was very upsetting and put a strain on my positive spirit.

Outside of my dreams, I am not afraid of death. But never have I experienced the perspective of having to face it directly, knowing exactly when and how it was coming. In the dream, I kept thinking "I would rather die in my sleep, or get a fatal disease, or starve to death, or die in a plane crash." Because it would be so much easier to accept that form of death. Those seem to make me helpless, I suppose. It is out of my control. This dream, though seemingly it was out of my control, it was completely wrong. It was unethical, it was cruel, it was not right. It did not sit well with me. Red flags were raised everywhere.

Now I have to go teach a lesson and play in a concert. Hopefully my death will be a little less on my mind now that I have written out this dream.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Hair and a Fair

For once, my incredibly weird dream was not a horrific traumatizing experience. My dream last night took me back to high school. I think. Ha. That in and of itself was traumatizing, so my brain took it easy I guess.

It was some kind of spirit week in preparation for a Homecoming or Prom dance.
It was "Famous Person" day, where you dress like someone famous. So pretty much, anybody. There were super heroes, celebrities, historical figures, cartoon characters, etc. I just threw on some clothes and someone told me it was fine. I didn't really care. I wasn't actually a student, but was blending in.

My hair was pink. Because earlier in the Spirit Week, it had been class distinction day, and, since I was blending in as a senior, seniors wore red. I had bright red hair for that day, and I guess it had faded.
I REALLY liked it. In the dream.

It's fun to dream about. But I don't know that I'd ever actually do it. Maybe some day, when looking professional all the time isn't a necessity. Ha.

Oh. And in the dream, I was working on setting people up to go as dates to the dance. The one I was watching closest worked out. And the girl wore a dress like this:
idk why some details stick out way more than others.

Oh wait, there was gore and terror to the dream.
There was some kind of traveling fair visiting the school. You could walk around outside, visit game booths, buy cotton candy and other snacks, and cross the parking lot to the dance.
One of the booths was an attraction for dare-devils, people who want to get their adrenaline rushing, or don't want to say 'no' to a dare.
You climbed up some stairs to a high platform. They attached you to a harness that is on a crane. Often it was a young adult/teenager and a smaller child in a two-person harness. They would slowly lower you into a pool/swamp kind of thing. There was an alligator at the bottom, but the gator couldn't get all the way to the top. So you would be lowered into the water, and then see how far into the water you will allow yourself to go. Tease the alligator, basically.
Well, I could see this was a terrible idea. A man and a child, both strapped in a two-person harness, were lowered in. The man stretched is legs down while floating at the top, and the alligator swam up, as was supposed to happen. The man jerked his leg back up to prevent the gator from biting, and the crane lifted the pair up. The alligator was supposed to stop, but powerfully broke the surface of the water and grabbed on to the child. The child had to be 4 or 5 years old. He was completely helpless and about to be crushed. I think the adult was either incredibly stupid or drunk. Or both. He was trying to yank the child out, but that only made things worse. I don't know how, but eventually the child was freed. Traumatized and scarred, but alive.
Later I discovered there was something else in the water, too. But you had to have special glasses to see it. It was actually roaming the whole fair grounds, but nobody could see it. It was basically a giant sand crab. A 6-foot long, 5-foot high crab. With a 4-foot long tail. It was just creepy.

The end.

Thursday, July 24, 2014


I had a final performing test. Found out I wasn't a favorite of the music department, which really ticked me off. I wasn't going to be considered anything more than an amateur for some reason unbeknownst to me. It was a frustrating dream and I wanted to yell, but I didn't. I did leave a pissed off impression, which I felt kind of bad about. All-in-all, I just wanted out of there. Besides, I'm done there anyway?

I believe this dream comes from the fact that I don't feel satisfied with all of my BYU-I education. It's a great school, don't get me wrong. I loved a lot of my classes. It's a really great place to be.
But when it came to my progress as a musician, I ultimately was not satisfied. And I don't know what could have made the difference.

Okay, I do know, but I don't really want to make it public, as this is the internet.

I feel kind of ripped off.

I try to ignore it and move on. I wish my dreams wouldn't search through every dusty corner of my memories and bring crap to the front.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014


It's far enough away now that I can post this one because I do not remember all of the details anymore.

Friday night, my dreams nightmares involved me getting raped. Twice.
The first time it was by someone I knew. Even when I awoke I did not remember who this person was.
The second time, I was supposed to be protected by someone I know, but I do not particularly like this person. He left, and I was unable to get up from this sort of bowl/tub thing I was in. A large man walks in, begins rough housing, knocking things over, then grabs at me.
For both attacks, I "black out" at the point of contact with the assaulter. The next thing I know, I'm left thrown on the ground, crumpled and abused, knowing I have been raped.
For the second attack, I had written down the steps the man took to terrorizing me, and I read them to the person who was supposed to stay with me. He got pissed and I just didn't know what to do. I was in shock, really. Unable to process much, unable to physically do much, not sure where to focus my emotions. I knew in the back of my head that it was not my fault, that I will move on from this, that I was simply an innocent victim and the attackers would pay the consequences in the end. The next task in my mind for the dream was to deal with the facts and learn to cope.

In the dream, I felt a huge sense of vulnerability. And the feeling after you get adrenaline. Not quite the crash, but where you're still a bit shaky and have to breathe deep.

There is absolutely no reason why I should have had this dream.
I have never been sexually assaulted.
Harassed? Yes. In high school. But in that case, I turned around on the spot and swung my leg, aiming for the guy's crotch. I missed because he jumped. I wasn't scarred in the least bit. Just unwilling to put up with crap.

I was in a rotten relationship at one point in my life where I was manipulated. I don't like to think about it much, and I am an entirely different person now from who I was then. My feelings on that part of my past are completely dissimilar to how I felt and what I went through in this nightmare.

My marriage is wonderful and it shocked Tyler a bit when I told him about this nightmare.

It was an awful thing to go through and I really don't understand why I have these horrible experiences in my subconscious.
My life is on the right track. Very good things are happening. No, it's not butterflies and rainbows. It's much better than that. It's a constant learning experience with growth and health and relationship building, both in my marriage and out.

I wonder if I am being prepared. Not necessarily for future personal experiences, but perhaps prepared to have empathy for those who I will come to know who do go through these experiences.
Be it rape, watching family die, having to remain strong and be a loving leader for youth around you, dealing with trauma.
I don't know.

But I really don't like the darkness.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Guns and Pepper Spray

Location: Boulder City/Dubuque/North Las Vegas

A burglary took place at a convenient store next door to where we were. We heard gun shots. I knew they were doing a sweep of the neighborhood, and we were next. They would shoot each of us. I was hollering for my mom to run and grab us each a gun, or at least one for herself, which was handed to me. I had my pepper spray as well. They came banging on the door and we were NOT ready. We were trying to hide and stay quiet. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. The operator was not helpful. She did not believe me when I was reporting that we had heard gun shots at the convenient store, and they were going to come and shoot us next. I was rambling our location, pleading for her to do something. The group of men broke in and found us, grabbing us by our shirt collars and hair. There was a struggle. I was trying to force the shotgun out of the main guys hands. I recognized him and called him by name. He realized I knew him, and seemed taken aback. During his moment of surprise, I pulled my pepper spray out and nailed him in the face. But he didn't react a whole lot. He just couldn't see. I broke free and ran, continuing to call 9-1-1 with no help.

The rest is a blur.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Undermining the Boss

A huge lady who reminds me of the big evil lady in the story of Matilda. She's my boss. She once grabbed me by the neck and picked me up, choking me, cutting me. I felt the need to be very sneaky and undermine her. But I had to warn others about her while doing it - they had the potential to get in her way and face her wrath. My mom started to work for her and found her to be a very pleasant lady. That's because this lady was far more accepting of people closer to her age than young adults.

Something involving music. I had to conduct and work with 7th graders. But there was something I was planning and I needed to be very careful that she was not observing me, publicly or privately, while I did set forth this plan.

There was a lot of traveling involved. And swimming. I was swimming and stealing from her ginormous food supply to feed those less fortunate.
Then I was at BYUI. I managed to sneak out of my apartment without her noticing and had set out to completely run away and spread the word about her evil workings.
I was caught by an old friend and had to explain to her everything, make her promise to keep it secret, and for her own safety, not even acknowledge that she knew anything about me whatsoever.

Something involving a huge concert, heavy metal. Plans to destroy it? I don't remember what side I was on, destroying it or preventing destruction. I ultimately just didn't want to be there because my ex would be there and I wanted to leave, get as far away as possible. But I didn't. I was hiding from the evil lady. I was like a mouse. Thinking quick, small, high adrenaline, hiding easily, but a huge target if seen. Unwanted. Soon to be found, not many places to go for safety.

That's all I really remember that is worth attempting to write about. The rest can't really be put into words.