I have, through my life, had recurring themes in my dreams. Most of these kinds of dreams are produced by a particular anxiety and I have come to recognize them as almost comfortable when I have them. I might wake up with a start, but during the dreams, I am rarely afraid. It is like an old friend come to visit whom I observed from a distance.
I am significantly near-sighted so it should not be surprising to you that one of my recurring dream themes is being unable to see for some reason. Either my hair is in my face and I can't get it pulled back or the sun is shining too brightly or I just can't wake up enough to open my eyes, but I just can't see. I recognize it as addressing some level of anxiety about my poor eyesight.
I am also notoriously slow moving. When completing tasks, I am thorough and plodding and take about seven times as long to do things as most people. It might be perfect when I am finished, but wow, it takes a long time. This is my basic conundrum with bathing, cooking, and cleaning so another reoccurring theme is being unable to move at the same speed as regular people. Everything else in the dream will be happening at normal speeds, and I will be stuck in Super Slo-Mo unable to make myself get to where I need to be even though I desperately want to get there. Again, I recognize it as addressing anxiety about being slow.
The final and most alarming reoccurring theme I have is the "we all die in a tornado" dream. I am not really sure what triggers this dream, but I suspect it is a catch-all for feeling out of control and generalized anxiety. Or it could be storming outside. The dream is never exactly the same in terms of people or location, but the general idea is that we have a tornado bearing down on us that I can see in the sky and we are fleeing for shelter. I always wake up when the tornado reaches our location.
I had the tornado dream again last night. In this dream, there were tornadoes in the area and I had to clean out our closet we use for our shelter because it was full of stuff. All of a sudden I could see the funnel forming and dropping from the sky over our neighbor's house out of the window. I screamed for everyone to get in the closet and everyone madly rushed in. Just as I was about to enter, I remembered that my Boba carrier was still in my bedroom. I ran to my room and grabbed it off the floor, and, as I was running back, one of the shoulder straps snagged on a chair and I had to pause a moment to free it. Just then the tornado smashed into our house and I woke up with a start.
So there you have it. I love my carrier so much that I am apparently willing to die in a tornado in order to avoid losing it. I have odd dream priorities, but I do love my carrier.