I was at a college or big conferencey-olympic kind of place. I went into a gymnasium where there was someone else; a guy standing there. There was a metal bar overhead that I had the urge to jump up and swing on, but a fear of failure and shame washed over me, and my urge wilted in its conception. The dream continued, developing on that feeling. I was in emotional pain, and I looked among the instructors for someone to listen to my grief and pain, but no one would take me seriously or give me any notice. I was dashed deeper into grave depression. I drifted into an auditorium/coliseum-like place full of people. There were big lights and microphones and wires strung up above the huge room, and a deep diving/swimming pool below. I looked somewhere for solace, but found none anywhere. Wishing to demonstrate the depth of my pain and need, I leaped far, far out and grabbed a hanging microphone, plunging with it into the pool below, in the process dislodging a huge light which plunged in as well. In slow motion, I saw the electricity bloom orange and yellow up through the depths of the pool where the light had fallen, knowing it would soon do me in. Maybe they’ll see me now, I thought as I drifted down through the water.
Sounds like a dramatic call-for-help sort of dream which also reveals that I am the only one who can answer my own call. Ironically, I demonstrated my athletic ability in a super-powered leap designed to kill myself, which I could have previously used instead to satisfy a simple urge of pleasure to jump up and swing on a bar in the gym. The only difference was that I accepted the fear of making a fool of myself, and snuffed my happy impulse with a cruel slap in the face to my self-esteem.
I could have used the same energy to have fun in the gym that I used to commit suicide in the pool. I had the power to do either. What a choice -- what a simple choice.
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