With a jolt, I awoke with this corrective dream:

Lethargic, unfocused, I’m driving my new used car home from the dealership. As I approach the grocery store, I remember needing eggs and decide to stop. I pull into the parking lot that slopes toward the curb, then turn off the ignition. To my horror, the car keeps moving. I don’t know where the brake is. I need help.

Given the busyness of yesterday, it’s no wonder that my Dreamer spun this story.

Lethargic, unfocused speaks of the dissociation from my body as well as the world around me, a condition I used to live in before getting into recovery; it kept me isolated, unable to learn, stunted psycho-socially. That I’m still swallowed in this malaise reveal its deep rootedness. Yesterday’s relapse led to disregarding my third breathing treatment at the scheduled time. Exhaustion precluded remaining awake until a later time when it was safe to take it. Only with this morning’s treatment did deep breathing fill my lungs.

Driving my new used car suggests my self-will run riot, as described in the Big Book. In my present circumstances, I’ve no need for a car. Yet in the dream story, I procure one. I will have it my way, no matter that I may harm others or myself.

The grocery store with its eggs speaks of my penchant for nutritious foods to maintain my old body, such as it is. I still avoid sugars and most grains.

I don’t know where the brake is. —A terrifying moment seated in my car rolling toward the street and a probable crash. This image prods me to listen for Higher Power’s direction and not go out on my own, and to say No when taxed beyond my endurance. I’m the one with the terminal illness.



Such are the associations from these dream images, urging deeper listening for direction.