The Dream of the Good, The Bad, and The Extremely Intoxicated

In my pursuit of the study of dreams, I have discovered that dreams are usually symbolic representations. If one dreams about someone they know, it's usually not that person who is showing up, but what the person represents to the dreamer. The dream producers place us on a road of discovery where with each step we take, we can unravel the true meaning behind our dream characters, whether we know them in waking life or not. I believe it is paramount to pay attention to one's feelings about our dream characters—both in reflection of the dreamscape, and after waking. Paying attention to both may offer some clues into what is going on in waking life.

For example, I had a dream recently, where in the dream I thought the dream characters meant one thing, but upon waking, I knew the good guys were actually the bad guys, while the bad guy was actually a good guy. I couldn't explain it, but it was an overwhelming feeling of truth for me.

Here is my dream:

The Dream of the Good, The Bad, and The Extremely Intoxicated

I am a younger version of myself. In the luster of my twenties, I managed to look beautiful, even though I was extremely intoxicated from the drugs used during some oral surgery I had just had. I stood in front of my apartment, presumably after being dropped off after my visit to the dentist. 

The drugs were powerful. I couldn't speak, and I began to stumble, only to be rescued by my knight in shining armor—or rather a beautiful Italian-American man with black hair and a dark suit. He caught me in his arms before I fell down. He literally swept me off my feet. I was smitten.

He was not alone. Tony Sirico's "Paulie" from The Sopranos accompanied us up the elevator of my building and into my apartment. I knew it was Tony Sirico in the dream, but he embodied the character of "Paulie"  from the show. I didn't mind that these two men were in the mafia. I was happy to have them there to help me upstairs. Plus the younger guy was wonderful eye candy for me.

The apartment had beautiful hardwood flooring and floor to ceiling windows that spanned the length of the right side of the apartment. The kitchen, dining area, and bedroom all shared this window wall that overlooked a lush green hill. It was a relatively open concept apartment, with the exception of one wall that divided the bedroom and living room.  The dividing wall was for show, since the bedroom was open at the side of the room to the rest of the space. Someone standing in the entryway had a direct line of sight into the bedroom. It was a fabulous high-end apartment, but there was very little privacy if one had guests—particularly the 3rd wheel that Tony Sirico played in my dream.

Even though I couldn't speak, nor could I stand up tall on my own, in my own way, I was able to somehow seduce Mr. Eye Candy. We had sex on the bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the place. All the while, Tony Sirico kept yelling out to his friend, "Come on! We gotta go!"

Mr. Eye Candy continued his task with me. At one point, he lowered his head towards mine to kiss me. I remember his tongue being amplified in my awareness. It was a bright pink color and I could see it coming before his mouth reached mine. (When something is amplified in the dreamscape, I know I must pay attention to it for later. It's somehow important.) His kiss was so sweet, I could have stayed there forever.

The entire time I was in the throws with this man, and even afterward, my thoughts repeated, "I love him. He will be my husband. He is the love of my life..." In my mind's voice, I declared my love as though I were a giddy 14-year-old girl. I truly believed this man, who was having sex with the intoxicated me, was the man of my dreams.

Tony Sirico finally convinced "my man" to leave with him. With each passing moment that the mafia men were gone, I became less and less intoxicated. 

I began my search for my love. I found him and Tony Sirico again, but in a flash they were gone.

I once again stood in front of my apartment building looking toward the verdant hillside. (The verdant hillside captured my attention and became another amplified element.)

Then out of nowhere, I was surprised by a creepy bad guy. "Lisa," he said, "Come with me."

I turned around and ran away as fast as my body could muster, all the while I was coming out of my intoxicated state.

End Dream.

I awoke thinking about my feelings. Mafia men are the bad guys, but they felt good in the dream. They helped me upstairs. I even professed (at least in my mind) my undying love for one of them. The creepy guy who I ran away from, however, felt like the ally in the dream. I wasn't sure how yet. I needed to do some work, but I could tell that their roles were actually somehow reversed.

I am in two dream groups and my intuition guided me to share this particular dream in the first group of the week. What I didn't know at the time, is that one of my dream buddies in that group is a nutrition coach. Before we began discussing our dreams, we spoke about sugar and the intoxicating relationship it has with our bodies. I mentioned how I have been a life long sugar addict. I even quit for three years before starting up again. When I did quit, it took six weeks to release the intense desire for it. 

Sugar releases an enormous amount of dopamine in the brain. On an x-ray, it lights up even more than cocaine or heroin does. It's no wonder it took me so long to release my desire for it. And it's also no wonder that once I started consuming it again, I haven't been able to quit.

The Universe always brings the perfect group together. The perfect conversation always comes up to help guide through the dreams, even though we may not realize it while it's happening. By the time we discussed my dream, it became obvious why I had to share my dream in this group. It was so that my nutrition coach friend and I could have this conversation. We both quickly realized that our conversation was related to my dream. 

The mafia men were my symbol for sugar. The "oral surgery" and the amplified pink tongue were big clues. The bright pink tongue symbolized for me what I was eating, and if I continued on this path I might need oral surgery—or any number of surgeries since sugar feeds cancers of all kinds.

All my professing of love for the man was actually the love I feel for sugar. And the act of having sex with the man meant "he" was inside me—the sugar was inside me. The mafia men were bad for me, but the Mr. Eye Candy (or literal candy) tasted so good, I wanted more.

The meaning of "home/apartment" for me is actually a metaphor for my body. The lack of furniture in the apartment was also a clue. I only had a bed, which is where I might be if I continue on my sugary course. The lack of furniture for me felt like the lack of "good stuff" in my body. Additionally, I became less and less intoxicated with each passing moment the mafia men were gone. The more I am away from sugar, the better my body will be.

Interestingly, the creepy man at the end of the dream, whom I knew would be an ally after dream reentry, turned out to be just that. This dream character reminded me of someone I went to school with 35 years earlier, only this man aged right along with the years that had passed. He had a goatee and salt and pepper thinning hair. He was larger than the young man I knew in college. In real life the person I knew back then was studying to be a doctor. The "doctor" was the key element for this dream character.

When I shared this in my dream group, the nutrition coach mentioned that if she had a plate of cookies in front of her as well as a plate of carrots, it would be the cookies that she'd want to have. The mafia men were my cookies. The doctor was my plate of carrots. I may know carrots are better for me, but the cookies will call to me every time.

She used cookies in her analogy, and I literally had purchased cookie dough only hours before. This dream and dream reflection had a strong message for me. After our discussion, I gave the cookie dough away. It was time to slow down on the sugar intake.

I have read that Americans consume somewhere between 60-100 pounds of sugar annually. That's a lot of unwanted extra weight to carry around. Not to mention, it's sugar that feeds parasites in the intestinal tract. The more we eat, the more they want, building the craving at an alarming rate.

Back to the dream, I wondered why the green hill was so potent for me. While Mr. Eye Candy's tongue was an amplified color, most of the rest of the dream wasn't exactly black and white, but it did feel more sepia-toned. The hill, on the other hand, was as green as green can be. I knew why the tongue was amplified. It meant it was time to change my eating habits, or there would be a price to pay later. But what about the green hill?

Green, to me, always means heart chakra. The hill, someone else suggested, might mean an uphill battle with the sugar addiction. That certainly resonated, but if I feel love for myself along the way, that will help with the process. Remembering that I am worthy of feeding my body with love and nutritous foods that nurture me is my message from this dream. The sugar was making me "intoxicated". It was time to release it.

The key point here is to remember that things are not always as they seem to be in the dreamscape. It's important to do a little deep dive into our dreams to uncover the truth. This wasn't a "sex" dream per se as it was actually telling me about my appetite and consumption for something that looked good on the outside, but was really bad for me on the inside. 

Paying attention to the real meaning behind a dream pays off in the end. My body certainly appreciates the attention I give to dreams. And that is a good thing.

Thank you for reading. Sleep well. Dream well.