A Dream I Had While In Iraq...

[tonkpilS]

So this is a dream I had while I was in Iraq the first time. It was a very detailed dream and I wrote it all down when I woke up. I dont usually tell people about it but I'm on my second deployment and figured i would find out if some one knew what it was about. The dream went through a few different areas so I labeled them. Here it is.



Death's Hallway -

Second in line for death. In front of me is a tall long faced man. He hasn't shaven for a couple days, and he's going bald. Dirtier than most inmates, even though none of us are "clean" too normal standards. His teeth are rotten and missing in places because, he doesn't take care of them. There's a tear in his jump suit and his sleeves are rolled up. I can't make out his name tag. A number perhaps. The line continues on behind me... with faces that have unnoticeable features, except for one man with shoulder length dirty blond hair. I'm in a cement hallway outside a metal door with a small bullet proof window. The kind with the thin wires. The door appears to be damp, just like everything else. There are several rusty pipes along the ceiling of the clammy hallway. The guard in front of the door looks like a prisoner in a darker jumpsuit with a belt and boots, but just as dirty with the same id tags as us.



Death's Room -

The room is even more damp than the hallway through the door with the window. There's a thick odor of crispy flesh and I can feel it stick to my skin along with the mildewy humidity. The tile floor has drains that don't do the room justice because the floor has a good layer of liquid. The source is a white ceramic tub in the middle of the room. It has the clawed feet of some beast to hold it off the ground, and an inoperable rusty shower head. In the tub is and olive drab mixture of substances. Probably urine, blood, and the same dirty water we get here. Dangling in this "water" is a pair of feet. They belong to a man wearing only a pair of dirty underwear, and an instrument attached to his head. This attachment holds him just high enough that his feet can't touch the bottom of the tub. It has nodes that conduct electricity sticking out on both sides. With only two guards in the room, both whose faces are covered most likely to restrain the smell, it only takes a nod. The switch is thrown and the unnamed man begins to flail as though every muscle in his body is twitching in different directions. His spasms are so brutal that he is cutting his legs with his own finger nails. There is blood oozing from every available orifice on his head, and urine pouring down his legs. The room is flashing as smoke rises from the "water". Then with out warning the power cuts out and the condemned man goes limp. He groans and twitches, all hope of "Life" gone. Only his basic functions of pumping blood and breathing are still intact. Death will prevail soon enough.



Death's Hallway -

There's a slight murmur when the flickering of the halogen lights above stops too early. The metal door swings open with a creak as the masked guard steps out. He nods to the other and the unmasked guard in turn nods a release to us. There is minimal rejoice, as this WILL continue in the morning.



Court Yard -

We step into the court yard. Which is no more than a small fenced area with black gravel and a noisy generator. It’s our little peace of heaven. There is no ceiling, there is no sky. Just blackness, like staring at the back of your eyelids in a dark room. Am I already dead? Maybe this is why the guards have no weapons, even if we would rebel there would be no where to go. There's people I haven’t seen before in my court yard, they look strange. Still in jump suits but.....dead ... they're dead and rotten, but alive. Maybe I'm delusional, no, everyone sees them. I know that one, he’s my cell mate from two weeks ago. They have rotten faces and hands, like mice have been chewing on their decaying flesh, but they're happy. All of them are smiling. Then I see her, that girl I used to look at but could never talk to. She went to the room with the little window yesterday. I sit next to her to talk but I can't hear her, perhaps because I never heard her voice. I try to see if she's been rotting with out being to obvious. She has a beautiful blue tint to her perfect skin, long black hair, and dark eyes. As I watch her purple lips move I try to imagine what she's telling me. She looks happy and free. Free of the horrors of life.



The Morgue -

The air is still moist but down here it’s stale and heavy. Not like typical morgues with separate doors for each body. This morgue has shelves with sliding doors, so more bodies can be shoved in. There's a drain at the middle of each shelf so the olive drab water can leave the bodies and the rotting process will slow a little. The blond haired man that was in line behind me has his jump suit unzipped down to his waist and he's licking the draining fluids. He rubs himself as he licks the drains and touches the nearest bodies. It seems to be something he does quite often, because he knows exactly what he's doing. Some one like that deserves to be in a place like this.



Twisted Hallway -

I walk down a flight of broken stairs into a dark twisting hallway with the typical rusty pipes and dripping mildewy walls. There's garbage scattered every where and a different smell, more like fresh meat. The lights don't work here they only flicker every once in a while. I have a weapon for darkness (a flash light) and a shotgun. I walk down the hallway and there's a sound of wet foot steps coming from a black room. I point my weapons in at the same time. Something that resembles a dog with no skin and an almost human head comes running at me. SHOOT Reload, SHOOT Reload, SHOOT Reload, SHOOT. It tumbles to a stop at my feet with nothing more than a neck left to resemble a human head. Another sound from the same room, the same sound. One more "dog" charges from the darkness. Reload SHOOT, Reload Click, Reload Click. A shotgun makes a very good bat. Not completely dislodging the head but splitting the skull open stops the second beast. Yet another sound from a room behind me, a different sound. I go to investigate with my new bat ready and my weapon for darkness shining on ahead. In this room there's toys mixed in with the trash that lines the walls. A little boy lies curled up under a dirty old patch work blanket. One of the inmates sits slightly transparent at the foot of the bed watching the boy. Protection? I am the little boy and the blue skinned girl is looking down upon me with a motherly grin. Why do I deserve this pleasure to be guarded, protected, and.… loved? I think I'm already dead.


I didn't add anything to this once i woke up and wrote it down and I tried to write how i felt about situations also. Thank you in advance for reading this, I know its alot.
Thanks,
tonkpilS

[Wolfjk]

Hi,
I must commend you on yourwriting. My guess is that you're well educated and possibly a higher ranking officer.
The dream indicates that you are suffering from depression. The general "feel" of the dream indicates depression. However in your position you have to keep it covered up, first from your mates,and from yourself as well!
In cases like that the subconscious brings it out in dreams, as your genaral thoughts about you hopeless situation intrude on your sleep.
Just an ordinary dream in your situation to help you cope.
If I may add, the madications and injections you receive make the dreams more vivid.
Cheers Wolfjk

[tonkpilS]

I'm actually only a Specialist, but I was very well educated. I was very depressed at the time. So you think this is just a way of stress relief then? Thank you again,
tonkpilS

[unclesirbobbyrobson]

During the first world war they first started to study the dreams of soldiers. Those who dreamt of home and family and things enjoyable were generally much happier. Those who dreamt of the trenches and death and destruction were considered at risk. They were showing signs of shell shock. Unable to pull their minds away from the hell that was the trenches.

I see how you were depressed at the time. I am not taking sides or judging. But I did notice that your dream featured a lot of torture. That made me think of the scandal over American use of torture. To me this shows a sense of futility and lack of belief in what you were doing

But these dreams come and go. One minute we have belief in what we do... the next we are depressed and doubt things.

Of course the torture maybe just another symbol linked to the war fatigue in you rather than being a reference to the reports of Americans torturing prisoners.

---------------
A dream guide to help you understand what

has triggered your dreams

http://www.dreamsymbolism.info

[tonkpilS]

Well, thank you all again. I'm not going through that anymore even though I'm on my second deployment. This ones a lot more relaxed. Oh, I wasn't worried about the torturing of people so it must have just been depression/stress related. By the way my dreams are happy now because of my wife.
Thank you again,
tonkpilS

[tonkpilS]

Oh, also we aren't on medications or injections. I don't know where this misconception came from but, I don’t know anyone that’s taking anything other than Tylenol.
tonkpilS

[Wolfjk]

Originally Posted by tonkpilS

Oh, also we aren't on medications or injections. I don't know where this misconception came from but, I don’t know anyone that’s taking anything other than Tylenol.
tonkpilS

Hi,
Thanks for your reply. I'm glad you're OK now. Things have calmed down a bit.
My understanding was that soldiers are injected with a coctail of drugs against chemical and biological warfare. However if you are not in the military, it does not apply to you.
Painkillers such as tylenol or pharacetamol do effect dreams. The dreams have to be more vivid.
I think your dream was probably caused by the stress situation. It is not always perceived, however the subconscious is ware of everything.
Best wishes with your work and family.
Cheers Wolfjk