Bloody Teeth and Guilty Secrets

I had a pretty disturbing dream last night and, as my disturbing dreams often do; it had me thinking about the possible meaning or messages hidden amongst the bizarre symbols and situations. One thing that seems to be pretty prevalent in my more upsetting dreams is teeth. If bad things happen with teeth, I am guaranteed that my dream is trying to tell me something and I will wake up feeling concerned, upset, and/or flipping out.

For example, I remember during my very early 20’s (maybe even 19) a dream I had that made me bite the bullet and break up with my pseudo-boyfriend. At the time I was living a free-wheeling lifestyle. I worked hard and partied even harder. I typically worked the evening shift (three to midnight) at the bookstore. My older roommate, Kate, would wait impatiently for me to get home. The minute I was ready, we hopped in the car and took off for the downtown club scene, already playing loud, rhythmically pumping music in the car on the way. I wasn’t yet 21, but considering the older crowd I ran with, I was rarely carded. I got The Stamp that said I was 21 at one club, and usually was okay for bar/club hopping all night. I would get drunk pretty quickly (read: lightweight), since I was never comfortable in the club scene anyway; and eventually would be cajoled into dancing and other general stupidity out among the sweaty, anonymous press of bodies gyrating madly to the insistent thumps of typical club music.

After closing down the clubs, including sobering up at the one that stayed open till four but stopped serving alcohol at 2 am, we would make the drive back home to our little suburbian corner of the world. I was never driving, so I would usually stare blankly out of the window at the city whipping by, listening to wind-down music like Jack Johnson and trying desperately not to wonder what the hell I was doing with my life. When we arrived home, we would go to our separate rooms without so much as a “Good night” and crash into the deep, zombie slumber of girls who partied too damn much, until it was time for work again. One such night, I had a dream that I still remember in vivid detail.

In this dream, I was feeling my two front teeth with my tongue, a habit of mine when I am thinking, and I felt something odd. One wiggled. I pushed a little harder with my tongue, feeling around experimentally for more wiggles. Both my front teeth felt a little loose, so I reached up my hand to touch them. As I touched them, they shifted in my mouth and I could taste the copper of blood. Then they both popped out abruptly into the palm of my hand and blood began pouring out of my mouth, drowning the front of my shirt. I couldn’t stop the blood but I was more concerned with my freaking TEETH falling out.

I woke up in a dead panic.

I read up on it at work that day (working at Barnes and Noble was a reference heaven) and found that teeth in dreams were often symbols of guilt or secrets. I didn’t know how much I believed in dream symbols, but with my dreaming history, I was willing to explore the idea.

For awhile now, I’d been torturing myself about this relationship I had. I was dating a guy I didn’t even like, it was just convenient and I felt sorry for him. Horrible, I know. To make matters worse….he really liked me. I told him from the beginning I didn’t want anything serious, just someone to play video games and drink with, but I knew he wasn’t hearing it. He listened but did not hear it. Most guys don’t. He was the only guy I ever dated that was more brawns than brain, and I saw right through him. He even hid his insecurities with real swagger (cringe) but he had a sweet heart.

The dream upset me so much I avoided everyone and everything but work for a few days. I was a workaholic at that time in my life anyway, picking up any shift, working off the clock, sometimes staying for changeovers until 7 am and loving every minute of it.

Finally, after getting dozens of calls from my “friends”, wondering where the hell my wild ass was, I set up a meeting with my guy. I sat him down on the steps of his apartment building, also in my apartment complex, and said

“*Adam, I need to tell you something. You know I am not in love with you. I know you’ve said you don’t care about that….but I do. I can’t be in a relationship with someone I don’t love anymore. It’s making me feel horrible. I am so sorry.”

He looked at me like a puppy dog and accepted it with the same steadiness that he’d accepted all of my quirkiness in the half a year we’d dated.

“You know I don’t need you to love me back, Jen. I just think we have fun together and you know we can be whatever you want.”

To which I responded,

“Well, I’m going crazy over here, feeling guilty because I’m not ready for being anything other than friends. Of course we are friends but I just need to not be tied down right now. I’m too scattered for that.”

He was feeling emotional, I could tell, which would evoke a myriad of feelings in me, (some kind, some not so kind) so I started talking. Babbling, more like. Fast. Anything that could distract him. Rambling about work, partying too much, anime, video games, making plans for hanging out in the future….he cheered up a little and I beat a hasty retreat back home. My horrible tooth dreams went away.

He was one of the few people I didn’t burn my bridges – better to say explode my bridges with, so in the end doing the hard thing payed off. I didn’t always give my boyfriends the luxury of such an eloquent or kind good-bye. They didn’t always deserve it either.

A year later I was beginning a serious relationship with someone whom I would eventually get engaged to, and I was hiding a few secrets from him. I had dreams about my teeth twice. In one, I pushed with my tongue and they cracked in half, tumbling in slow motion out of my mouth. No pain, no blood, but absolutely haunting. In another, they fell out in my mouth and blood nearly choked me. I came clean and the dreams stopped.

So, my dream last night had teeth in it. You can imagine my discomfort.

But this time, in this dream, the teeth were not mine…

My 92 year old grandfather and I are up on impossibly tall ladders, leaning against each other on the roof, discussing the intricate detail of the unique pattern of this modern-style roof on some Dr. Seuss looking house. This would never happen, but okay. I start to fidget on my ladder, (I am ridiculously fidgety) making my grandfather very nervous. At one point, I held onto the roof and used my legs to pick up the ladder and move it to a more comfortable position. He ordered me to get off the ladder after that. I did. Then, out of nowhere he turns into an acrobat. He decides to get off his ladder by using his body weight to propel it forward and spin the LONG ladder in the air and as a final show, dismount with some spinning crap. He screwed up the landing though, and slammed into the pavement face first. I watched this entire performance in paralyzed horror and near awe.

I wasn’t sure he was hurt, so I slowly walked toward him, looking for any sign of movement. He raised his head and spit out two teeth…the sight of teeth stopped even my dream-self dead in my tracks. None of the Jen’s like teeth dreams. My grandfather doesn’t even have teeth, he is 92! but accuracy is not a dream requirement. He was obviously in a great deal of pain and I ran over to help him up and the dream went on from there.

The important part was the teeth. So. the teeth are back. Well, this is easy. I am keeping a secret from my family right now. A big one. Okay, why not my teeth then? Is it because I feel less guilty about keeping it, though I feel it is the wisest decision a t this time? Hmmmm. It seems I’ve yet again been attacked by my conscience.

Here is hoping I can escape tomorrow night Tooth Dream free.

---

Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)

• Bitten By the Susan Boyle Bug
• I Took a Purity Pledge (and I’m Keeping It)
• Womb With a View: Is it cheating to spend every night with a different man?
• Emily: He did this to me