Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Dreams are part of my life







My dreams – my life

 7-11-03

 I have been longing to write something about dreams for ages – no matter what kinds of dreams, what sorts of daydreams or whoever’s nightmares. I’m just inquisitive about the variety of colors, mysterious stories and insights behind the dreams.

 Since I was 3 or 4 years old, I had been bewildered why there were so many bizarre, eerie, sweet, jubilant or even indistinct pictures and movies in my brain every night. At that time, I recurrently dreamed of having a beautiful talking doll whose eyes could blink while chatting and singing and close while sleep; whose hair is blond and soft as silk; who had many adorable, stunning dresses, blouses and skirts. She could tell me thousands of stories at my bed and sent me to my enchanting dreamland every night.

 When I was in earlier grades of primary school, I frequently dreamt of my parents popping up in front of us from their half-year or longer-period trips thousands miles away from home and bought us many gifts and candies.

 When I was a teenager, my dreams were not as colorful and lovely as my earlier-aged. Most of the dreams were full of jealousy, hatred, arguments and competitions. Being in the time of turbulent culture revolution, many questions and blurry thoughts emerged in my dreams. I was completely perplexed by the political struggles in the central governments repeatedly. I didn’t know who was telling truth. 

 When I immigrated to Hong Kong, I couldn’t sleep well most of the time. My dreams tortured me from endless examinations, tests, and assessments to questions I didn’t solve yet in the class.

 

Luckily I was able to enter the Hong Kong Polytechnic. It was many people’s dream. Yet, I had been never dreaming of getting into college at that time. Suddenly it was too good to be true: seemly I were living in a great heaven. I immediately found that I was never a person just from Mainland China, knowing nothing about English and even Cantonese and being looked down by the local people.

 

Although I was under highest studying pressure I’d never had before (because of my weak English), I never had nightmares to have me give up. Instead, I cherished the chance and worked so hard to finish the three-year course. Fortunately, whenever I was in need from my study to career, I dreamt that somebody was backing up me. Coincidently, the person appeared always in time to help me face one and another challenge in my life since then.

 

The past 10-year working life was adventurous, exciting and stressful. Among the jobs I have done, being a life insurance agent was the most challenging and rewarding one. Oddly, all my dreams during that period were hurrying up for appointments, being pushed to get businesses by our bosses or blanking out when sitting an exam. They were all awful and scaring. I couldn’t count how many times I was awaked/awoken    by fearing happenings in my nightmares.

 

When I was a single, what I mostly dreamed was loving and being loving with somebody. My dreaming husband was tall, handsome, loving and caring, energetic and sporty gentlemen with sense of humor. He could uplift and encourage me when I was sad and depressed and stand by me, live with me to face any challenges in the future.

 

When I got married, something in my daydream about marriage seemed a bit diverse: my very husband was not the one I used to dream about. Though he was quite gorgeous when he was young, but he is neither tall nor humorous. On the contrary, he is a serious man with a quite short temper. Nevertheless, he was a traditional, responsible, kind and hardworking man. And what I knew was that he loved me and I loved him when I decided to marry him.

 

Throughout the 13-year marriage life, we have had to confront some ups and downs. Yet we have been learning how to understand each other better, how to care for each other and build a happy, positive environment for our son to grow up.

 

Well, life is full of dreams, no matter if they are sweet, bitter, sour or hot, black or colorful. Sometimes we even don’t know we are living in the dreams of thousands of unfortunate people. Sometimes dreams are so gray and dreadful but reality is much colorful and encouraging.

 

Honestly, sometimes, truth and dreams are getting such muddled in our life journey that we don’t even know they are true or dreams.

 

Maybe that is why I am so captivated by dreams and going to drop them down in the coming future. I want to read dreams and search for the stories behind the dreams.

 

 ——————————————————————


A nightmare and Postnatal Depression   27.6.06

 

In my life, nightmares come and go. But there is one that I’ll never forget – a nightmare during the birth to my son – while I was having a caesarean.

 

After the general anaesthetic, I immediately became unconscious. Surprisingly, no sooner had I entered (have) a deep ‘sleep’ than my left brain started working vigorously. It seemed even more active than usual. While the anesthetic dosage only stopped me from feeling the physical pain of the operation in which my womb was cut open to allow my baby son to be born, a struggle for life was going on …

 

The operation turned out to be a failure. My son’s life was saved but my blood never stopped flowing (bleeding) no matter how hard the doctor tried. I desperately need an immense amount of B+ or O type blood for transfusion immediately (instantly). But in the operation theater, oddly, none of those (the) types of blood were available (stored in advance). I desperately waited for my family to see me before I died. /I couldn’t wait for my family to see me before I would die… Dr Cheung thought my conditions was/were unexpected and he started to feel /helpless/powerless. My life was in danger. I was crying, seeing ( to see) my efforts were in vain.  I was going to die and wouldn’t see my new born baby, not to mention take care of him …

 

Just before I caught my last breath, I was waked/waken up by my sister-in-law who had been waiting for me and the baby outside the operation room for almost one hour. She sounded very excited. Actually it was a smooth caesarean.

 

What first struck me was I hadn’t died./didn’t die. I was alive! It was only a nasty dream I’d never expected I would have in this extraordinary /experience/moment – a horrible ‘ordeal’.

 

But the real ordeal just began. Soon, I felt an excruciating pain around the cut area on my lower stomach – a sharpest agony I’d (ve) never ever suffered in my life. Worst still, I had to suffer from this torture overnight. To my dismay, the pain had to last for another 12 hours until the next afternoon when the doctor visited me. Then he immediately ordered a nurse to give me an injection of pain killer. (It was a medical mistake. It was the first time for me to feel deeply that how terrible impact it may cause on patients if doctors were not careful enough.) Worst still, I couldn’t urine on my own because the tearing pain; I was still not allowed to eat after starving for more than 24 hours. Excess excreting gastric juice (HCL) had been burning my stomach wall brutally. My head seemed to be splitting…

And my whole body was not able to move because of the vein injections on my arms.

Since I went the hospital for the delivery at the midnight 3 days ago, I couldn’t have had a decent sleep at all. New mothers-to-be, their families, relatives, doctors, nurses came in and went out around the clock.  In the semi-private room, it was like a party time sometimes. Despite the agony in my stomach (was) getting stronger and stronger day by day, Eugene seemed to never want to come in to the world. (Actually it was the position problem.) I was doomed to have a difficult delivery. Then (Now) a  caesarean was the last resort. We all had to accept the doctor’s decision. I stopped eating anything from morning on the third day, waiting for the private doctor for more than 9 hours to give me the vital treatment. (Ironically, I preferred a cesarean to natural delivery in the first place. But no one in my family was in favor of this ‘unnecessary surgery’. )

 

The pains, hunger, worrying and anxiety… I was collapsed finally. A continuous low fever lasted for one week. (which extended my discharge from the hospital.) I was too weak to walk, except lie in the bed for the (initial) 3 days after the birth. I didn’t get the chance to see poor baby until the 4th day. Tears just flooded (came) out of my eyes from time to time. I was in terribly low mood. I was experiencing ‘baby blues’.

 

Unfortunately, the baby blues continued; (the) similar (disturbing) nightmares attacked me over again and again in the following (later months). I didn’t realize that I had already been suffering postnatal depression since the caesarean. All the typical symptoms – a persistently low mood, difficulty in sleep despite extreme tiredness, I experienced.

 

What distressed me most was the insomnia, which directly affected my working ability (spirit). Every night, I subconsciously dared not to sleep, worrying that I wouldn’t awake again. (for ever) Seemingly, I would never come out of the vicious circle of the nightmares. Consequently, I was too weak to look after Eugene in (at) night and work during the daytime (meanwhile). However, my insurance career had just took off and my earning power had reached the top of my life. I had to make a choice…Continue(ing) working or stay(ing) at home as a 100% fulltime mother.

 

I had to make the decision during the maternity leave. The final decision was difficult but supposed to be good for my health, job and hopeful good for Eugene as well - he was going to be nursed /cared for by a babysitter in another building in (of) our neighborhood (immediately) when he was one month old. 

 

Unfortunately, it was only the start of the real nightmare. The nanny was quite money-oriented and irresponsible. She took care of two infants at the same time. What she was concerned about most was not the two Babies’ health, routine cleaning and feeding, but the minimum ‘hassles’ from the babies and their parents. She set stringent rules to prevent us parents from calling (to call) her or even visiting the babies. Most of the time, they made them either sleep or watch TV in the infant stages! She even fed them a kind of Chinese medicine which had (gave) a sedative effect so that she could have a ‘peaceful’ time to chat on the phone or make quick money on (in) the stock market. Eugene’s bottom was infected with rashes and yellow water spots all the time. Worse still, he coughed all the time. Until 8 months he even didn’t know how to change position, simply because the lady didn’t provide a bigger bed for him to move around in…

 

 

(The nanny was not kind enough to be a nanny but really lack of conscious - she set serious harsh rules to prevent ‘hassles’ from the babies and their parents - <Don’t call her ‘if not necessary’>. <Visit is not allowed until Saturday>.” Most of the time, made the babies either sleep or sit in front of the TV all the time. (But watching TV in the infant stages was definitely harmful for them)! She even fed them a kind of Chinese medicine which gave sedative effect so that she could have a ‘peaceful’ time to chat on phone or make quick money in the stock market. Eugene’s bottom was infected with rashes and yellow water spots most of the time in the eight month staying in this family. Soon, Eugene started to cough and then sick frequently. Until the 8th months, he even didn’t know how to change his body position, simply because the lady didn’t provide a bigger bed for him to move around a little bit…)

 

 While Eugene’s constitution was deteriorating in the babysitter’s family, my pressure and worries doubled. I couldn’t concentrate on my job after the time (from time to time.)

 

I was in an extremely anxious, gloomy state as I felt deeply guilty for not being able to feed my son myself, change diapers for him, chat with him and play with him since we were not allowed to see him until (every) Saturdays when he was taken back home for Sunday care. We lost the vital (drastic) period when Eugene changed the most(ly) in his life.

 

 

(I got a deep guilty conscious for I couldn’t do anything to improve the situations: I was not able to feed my son myself, change diapers for him, sing lullaby to make him sleep and play with him…We lost the drastic period when Eugene changed mostly in his life - a big loss that I will never ever have chance to make up. It was the most regretful period in my life.)

 Finally we decided to take Eugene home and hired (had) a helper to look after him. The nightmare was over at last (in the end).

 The eight months was a vacuum that I will never ever have chance to make up and the thing I’ve most regretted in my life.

 Thinking back, although I couldn’t control my subconscious world – dreams, I should have been better prepared for how to care for Eugene in the best way. We didn’t expect that relying on others’ service would cause such big mess and aftermath. I was not well prepared mentally to greet a new life since I didn’t know that the extra work involved in being a mother to a young baby calls for another enormous life adjustment.

 Looking on the bright (at the bright) side(s), I had been gone through ‘virtually death’ in the tormenting nightmares. However it inspired me that everyday to me is a new day of life. I can’t take my present life (it) for granted. I (had) experienced the most physical agony in my life in the hospital. Nevertheless, I’ve started to learn mellow out (tolerance) and take it easy.

 (I really appreciate Professor Hawkins’s golden motto: life is a process to learn acceptance – to accept that things are the way they are and to make the best of them. Happiness is not only from well-being, but also from the sense of conquering yourself and difficulties. They are part of the richness of life. )

  I found that life is a process to learn acceptance – to accept that things are the way they are and to make the best of them (it). Happiness is not only well-being, but the sense of conquering yourself and difficulties. They are part of the richness of life.

  Life, ‘death’, joy of new life  depression, sickness, separation, reunion - a process I went through during the eight months; a process I need to learn how to deal with positively in my whole life.

 

 _______________________________________________________________

  A nightmare and Postnatal Depression   27.6.06

 In my life, nightmares come and go. But there is one that I’ll never forget – a nightmare during the birth to my son – while I was having a caesarean.

 After the general anaesthetic, I immediately became unconscious. Surprisingly, no sooner had I entered (have) a deep ‘sleep’ than my left brain started working vigorously. It seemed even more active than usual. While the anesthetic dosage only stopped me from feeling the physical pain of the operation in which my womb was cut open to allow my baby son to be born, a struggle for life was going on …

 The operation turned out to be a failure. My son’s life was saved but my blood never stopped flowing (bleeding) no matter how hard the doctor tried. I desperately need an immense amount of B+ or O type blood for transfusion immediately (instantly). But in the operation theater, oddly, none of those (the) types of blood were available (stored in advance). I desperately waited for my family to see me before I died. /I couldn’t wait for my family to see me before I would die… Dr Cheung thought my conditions was/were unexpected and he started to feel /helpless/powerless. My life was in danger. I was crying, seeing ( to see) my efforts were in vain.  I was going to die and wouldn’t see my new born baby, not to mention take care of him …

 Just before I caught my last breath, I was waked/waken up by my sister-in-law who had been waiting for me and the baby outside the operation room for almost one hour. She sounded very excited. Actually it was a smooth caesarean.

 What first struck me was I hadn’t died./didn’t die. I was alive! It was only a nasty dream I’d never expected I would have in this extraordinary /experience/moment – a horrible ‘ordeal’.

 But the real ordeal just began. Soon, I felt an excruciating pain around the cut area on my lower stomach – a sharpest agony I’d (ve) never ever suffered in my life. Worst still, I had to suffer from this torture overnight. To my dismay, the pain had to last for another 12 hours until the next afternoon when the doctor visited me. Then he immediately ordered a nurse to give me an injection of pain killer. (It was a medical mistake. It was the first time for me to feel deeply that how terrible impact it may cause on patients if doctors were not careful enough.) Worst still, I couldn’t urine on my own because the tearing pain; I was still not allowed to eat after starving for more than 24 hours. Excess excreting gastric juice (HCL) had been burning my stomach wall brutally. My head seemed to be splitting…

And my whole body was not able to move because of the vein injections on my arms.

Since I went the hospital for the delivery at the midnight 3 days ago, I couldn’t have had a decent sleep at all. New mothers-to-be, their families, relatives, doctors, nurses came in and went out around the clock.  In the semi-private room, it was like a party time sometimes. Despite the agony in my stomach (was) getting stronger and stronger day by day, Eugene seemed to never want to come in to the world. (Actually it was the position problem.) I was doomed to have a difficult delivery. Then (Now) a  caesarean was the last resort. We all had to accept the doctor’s decision. I stopped eating anything from morning on the third day, waiting for the private doctor for more than 9 hours to give me the vital treatment. (Ironically, I preferred a cesarean to natural delivery in the first place. But no one in my family was in favor of this ‘unnecessary surgery’. )

 The pains, hunger, worrying and anxiety… I was collapsed finally. A continuous low fever lasted for one week. (which extended my discharge from the hospital.) I was too weak to walk, except lie in the bed for the (initial) 3 days after the birth. I didn’t get the chance to see poor baby until the 4th day. Tears just flooded (came) out of my eyes from time to time. I was in terribly low mood. I was experiencing ‘baby blues’.

 Unfortunately, the baby blues continued; (the) similar (disturbing) nightmares attacked me over again and again in the following (later months). I didn’t realize that I had already been suffering postnatal depression since the caesarean. All the typical symptoms – a persistently low mood, difficulty in sleep despite extreme tiredness, I experienced.

 What distressed me most was the insomnia, which directly affected my working ability (spirit). Every night, I subconsciously dared not to sleep, worrying that I wouldn’t awake again. (for ever) Seemingly, I would never come out of the vicious circle of the nightmares. Consequently, I was too weak to look after Eugene in (at) night and work during the daytime (meanwhile). However, my insurance career had just took off and my earning power had reached the top of my life. I had to make a choice…Continue(ing) working or stay(ing) at home as a 100% fulltime mother.

 I had to make the decision during the maternity leave. The final decision was difficult but supposed to be good for my health, job and hopeful good for Eugene as well - he was going to be nursed /cared for by a babysitter in another building in (of) our neighborhood (immediately) when he was one month old. 

 

Unfortunately, it was only the start of the real nightmare. The nanny was quite money-oriented and irresponsible. She took care of two infants at the same time. What she was concerned about most was not the two Babies’ health, routine cleaning and feeding, but the minimum ‘hassles’ from the babies and their parents. She set stringent rules to prevent us parents from calling (to call) her or even visiting the babies. Most of the time, they made them either sleep or watch TV in the infant stages! She even fed them a kind of Chinese medicine which had (gave) a sedative effect so that she could have a ‘peaceful’ time to chat on the phone or make quick money on (in) the stock market. Eugene’s bottom was infected with rashes and yellow water spots all the time. Worse still, he coughed all the time. Until 8 months he even didn’t know how to change position, simply because the lady didn’t provide a bigger bed for him to move around in…

 

 

(The nanny was not kind enough to be a nanny but really lack of conscious - she set serious harsh rules to prevent ‘hassles’ from the babies and their parents - <Don’t call her ‘if not necessary’>. <Visit is not allowed until Saturday>.” Most of the time, made the babies either sleep or sit in front of the TV all the time. (But watching TV in the infant stages was definitely harmful for them)! She even fed them a kind of Chinese medicine which gave sedative effect so that she could have a ‘peaceful’ time to chat on phone or make quick money in the stock market. Eugene’s bottom was infected with rashes and yellow water spots most of the time in the eight month staying in this family. Soon, Eugene started to cough and then sick frequently. Until the 8th months, he even didn’t know how to change his body position, simply because the lady didn’t provide a bigger bed for him to move around a little bit…)

 

 While Eugene’s constitution was deteriorating in the babysitter’s family, my pressure and worries doubled. I couldn’t concentrate on my job after the time (from time to time.)

 

I was in an extremely anxious, gloomy state as I felt deeply guilty for not being able to feed my son myself, change diapers for him, chat with him and play with him since we were not allowed to see him until (every) Saturdays when he was taken back home for Sunday care. We lost the vital (drastic) period when Eugene changed the most(ly) in his life.

 

 

(I got a deep guilty conscious for I couldn’t do anything to improve the situations: I was not able to feed my son myself, change diapers for him, sing lullaby to make him sleep and play with him…We lost the drastic period when Eugene changed mostly in his life - a big loss that I will never ever have chance to make up. It was the most regretful period in my life.)

 

Finally we decided to take Eugene home and hired (had) a helper to look after him. The nightmare was over at last (in the end).

 

The eight months was a vacuum that I will never ever have chance to make up and the thing I’ve most regretted in my life.

 

Thinking back, although I couldn’t control my subconscious world – dreams, I should have been better prepared for how to care for Eugene in the best way. We didn’t expect that relying on others’ service would cause such big mess and aftermath. I was not well prepared mentally to greet a new life since I didn’t know that the extra work involved in being a mother to a young baby calls for another enormous life adjustment.

 

Looking on the bright (at the bright) side(s), I had been gone through ‘virtually death’ in the tormenting nightmares. However it inspired me that everyday to me is a new day of life. I can’t take my present life (it) for granted. I (had) experienced the most physical agony in my life in the hospital. Nevertheless, I’ve started to learn mellow out (tolerance) and take it easy.

 

(I really appreciate Professor Hawkins’s golden motto: life is a process to learn acceptance – to accept that things are the way they are and to make the best of them. Happiness is not only from well-being, but also from the sense of conquering yourself and difficulties. They are part of the richness of life. )

 

 I found that life is a process to learn acceptance – to accept that things are the way they are and to make the best of them (it). Happiness is not only well-being, but the sense of conquering yourself and difficulties. They are part of the richness of life.

 

 Life, ‘death’, joy of new life  depression, sickness, separation, reunion - a process I went through during the eight months; a process I need to learn how to deal with positively in my whole life.

 

 


 

 

 

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