Why Am I Still Wandering That Damn High School

Have you ever tried telling someone about a dream you just had? Or, even worse, have you ever had to sit there and politely listen while someone else tells you theirs?

Let’s admit it: nobody cares. At best, we care enough to hear the gist – one sentence, maybe two – but please, for the love of all that is holy, spare us the vivid, minute-by-minute retelling that’s still swirling around in your half-awake brain.

If my husband has a dream, he’ll come downstairs, pour his coffee, and for the next ten minutes I’ll get the full cinematic retelling. I listen. I nod. I act interested. I even look at him while he’s talking and add a chuckle during his storytelling. It’s the polite thing to do. But if I try to tell him about one of my dreams, he’ll be scrolling through his phone before I finish the first sentence, announcing what the high temperature is supposed to be that day. I might as well talk to a houseplant.

The truth is, listening to someone describe a dream is to put it bluntly – boring. We don’t put much stock into it, because after all, it’s only a dream. So, guess what this blog is about?

A dream – mine. And you’re all going to pay attention!

It’s not just any dream – but a recurring dream I’ve had for more years than I can count. And you’re going to hear about it because I had a brand-new sequel this morning. It’s still weighing me down, and I need to unload it somewhere. Maybe one of you can shed some light on what it means. Maybe adding humor will help me look at it differently and chase it away. Or maybe – I just want to see who actually reads my blogs to the very end.

Gracie woke me at 4:30 this morning, which, thanks to daylight savings time, was a gift. Only thirty minutes until I could feed her and administer her insulin at 5 am. Soon after she ate and went out to do her thing, I laid back down on the couch… and straight into dreamland I went.

Throughout my adult life, I’ve had these recurring dreams where one of several things happens – all of them centered around high school:

I can’t find my locker because I can’t remember the number.

If I do find it, I can’t remember the combination to open the lock.

I can’t remember what class I have next.

Or, because I’ve been skipping out on that class (because I can’t remember what it is), I’m terrified that when graduation time comes, I won’t have enough credits to graduate.

The not knowing what my next class is dream, is the worst. The hallway is full of students scurrying about – books in hand, knowing exactly where they are going. The bell rings and the hall is suddenly empty. I’m standing there in the middle of the hallway in full internal meltdown mode thinking, Okay, it’s 6^th hour. What class do I have 6^th hour? Why don’t I know this? The trimester hadn’t changed. Why is no one helping me?

There have even been a few occasions when Dream-Me does the logical thing and goes to the office to ask. Of course, there’s a line of students at the counter and by the time my turn comes, class will have been a good 10 minutes in already.

When I finally find the classroom, I freeze in the doorway, looking through the glass. Class is well underway. I can’t walk in late. Even in my sleep apparently, I don’t want all eyes on me.

This morning’s dream added a new chapter to the saga. After drifting off on the couch, my dream picked up its pen and said, “Let’s add something new.”

I was back in high school again. But this time I wasn’t inside the building – I was outside, in the cold, trudging through snow searching frantically for my car. I couldn’t remember where I had parked. I even checked the back parking lot, which is funny, because the high school didn’t have a back parking lot. But dreams love to give us the general idea of a place while completely rearranging the floor plan.

Here’s the part I find odd now that I’m awake: it was dark. Why? High school gets out around 3:30-ish in the afternoon. It wouldn’t be dark unless the sun had given up early that day. Just another layer of loneliness and frustration added to the plot, I suppose.

The car I was searching for? My daughter’s first car. A pinkish/champagne colored Toyota Corolla. My brain apparently enjoys nostalgia. At some point in the dream, it dawned on me that I had the key fob in my pocket. But when I pulled it out, it was so dark I couldn’t see the buttons.

As I’m typing this, it occurred to me that the Corolla didn’t have a key fob. It was way before fobs came into existence. It had a huge Toyota key. But anyway – back to the dream.

I now understand the darkness. There had to be a villain in the plot. I squinted at the fob, searching for the horn button, pressing what I thought was the right one, but saw no headlights flickering anywhere. Naturally, I had to go check the imaginary back lot too. Same result. Nothing.

I’ve also had the dreams where my teeth or hair are falling out. I think that’s a pretty common one. But they all leave one wondering what exactly is behind these kinds of dreams. Do they correlate to what we are feeling/experiencing in our real lives?

The awful feeling of not finding my locker, not knowing the combination, not knowing what class to go to next – all have me feeling scared, frustrated and panicky in the dream. Is that how I feel in real life? I’d say no. But on a subconscious level – maybe?

I believe we remember dreams more vividly when we’re in that light, fragile sleep and we wake soon after. These dreams cling to you. They set the tone for the day before the day even begins. All I want to do is go back to bed, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll end up right back in that damn high school. No thank you.

My assumption when pondering the meaning behind these dreams is simple: I’m either lousy with numbers, or it’s a predicter of impending dementia.

After doing some Google research, the experts said these are very common dreams among adults, as high school is a universal symbol of: expectations, pressure, performance, judgement and responsibility. Dream experts say returning to high school often reflects current worries or insecurities, not past ones.

The good news is that people who have these dreams tend to be responsible, reliable, thoughtful and concerned about not letting others down. I guess that’s not all bad.

All I know is that if I end up back in that high school tonight, my locker better be clearly marked with a giant neon sign, the lock completely missing, my own personal guidance counselor waiting to escort me to my next class and somebody better hand me a diploma before I forget why I’m there in the first place.

A toast:

To those still reading – all 3 of you – my loyal fans who would’ve been right there in my dream with a bolt cutter in one hand, flashlight in the other, ready to bust open my locker and wander that dark parking lot with me, looking for a car that probably didn’t exist… you truly are the friends every dreamer needs. Cheers!