I don’t do drugs because I’m terrified of the things my brain may come up with under the influence of anything. If I can be afraid of ghost sharks or blueberries without a hint of psychedelics or whatevers, then my brain on acid or ecstasy or hell, marijuana may create some seriously fucked up shit for no reason other than it finds my perplexion amusing.
I woke up Tuesday morning after having one of the most bizarre dreams of my life. In that dream, I was running around my alma mater with my mom. We found some heavy, semi-flat rocks that turned out to be near-fossilized rattlesnake eggs. I say near-fossilized because one or two of them started hatching. We set the rocks down and walked briskly to the car, where we both went, “What and the actual fuck was that about?”
And then when I started to talk, snakes came out of my mouth. Not lots of little garter snakes. The first one was a giant bull snake, at least eight feet long, with a six-inch diameter. I wasn’t in pain while it came out (that’s what she said? Gross, sorry), but I was astonished.
After that, a ball python came out. Faster than the first one, which is surprising, because those things are slow. This one was ten feet long and my mom directed it to the back seat where it curled up with the bull snake.
A few more bull snakes came out along with a very tame rattler, and my mom and I looked at the back seat, full of cuddled snakes, and looked at each other, and she said to me, “Well what are we gonna do with all of these?” I shrugged, and we drove around to the back of my old campus and let them all out near the pond.
The Very Official Dream Dictionary of the internet told me that “vomiting up snakes may mean you are overcompensating for something that is lacking in your life.” There are so many jokes for that–I’m going to leave it up to you guys to come up with the best ones.
I awoke and was super anxious all day. My roommate came home from work, saw me on the couch and said, “Are you okay?” I said yes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” And then I said no. I wasn’t okay. I was nervous about something. She looked worried. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t know. Everything? Nothing? Something inexplicable that I couldn’t put my finger on? The fact that I dreamt about throwing up snakes?
I was worried about going home and having my friends hate me. I was worried about how my shitty first draft of my thesis is really shitty and the work that’s going to have to go into it to make it not shitty. I was worried about my weight. I was worried about money. I was worried about my blood turning into cookie butter based on the amount of cookie butter (crunchy, let’s be real) I’d consumed in the past few months.
I felt that dream was very foreboding. I kept waking up with dull aches in my sacrum, right where I normally throw my back out.
So of course on Wednesday during yoga I threw it out. It hasn’t happened in almost a year, but I have been expecting it for a few weeks. I was in downward dog and stepped forward to go into a lunge, and a T-1000 Terminator gripped my sacrum and surrounding muscles like I was its last chance of survival before falling into a pool of lava.
My teacher guided me through the rest of the 90 minute class on the floor, while everyone else continued their (really fun!!) class.
There were a few moments that I wanted to cry. Where I almost started sobbing lying on my back. Not because of the pain–I’m used to what it feels like to throw my back out–but because of the relief and absurdity of it all. It finally happened, so I don’t have to worry about it again until late 2015.
All of that anxiety I had was stored in that area, and tweaking my back was its release.
I can move a little easier today, and I’m not as anxious about everything, which is good.
Except why the fuck were snakes coming out of my mouth and why was I not concerned about it at the time? Even worse–why did my mother and I precede to go to a candy store afterwards and load up on all different kinds of snacks (I favored the 7 layer bars)?
The world may never know.