Dreams of Ineptness

What a night of dreams. Given scales of one to ten, where ten is the highest, these dreams were around eights on the vividness and intensity scales. They left me feeling emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted. Dreams of these types trigger speculation that I’m living in the dreams, and the dreams are the reality. So while I’ve been here, living with all of its entanglements and needs, I’ve actually been asleep there. Once I awaken there, I experience that life through my dreams.

Makes sense. In the dreams, I was bewildered about what was going on and expectations for me. Everyone liked me. Nobody was concerned about me. I was just there, part of the landscape. It was an incoherent landscape. Some others and I were in the back interior of a giant parked 1982 Camaro. It was so large, we were standing and moving around without being encumbered. Things were sometimes written on the car’s immense rear hatch window. But I knew I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to be doing. Fueled by guilt, anxiety burned through me. I was going to be found out at any moment. 

Leaving the Camaro, I raced around in a covert frenzy, attempting to cover my tracks and do what I was supposed to be doing all along. The office made no sense. Everything had been moved outside. Meanwhile, new instructions were being introduced. I struggled to stay abreast of the new ideas. I was supposed to be understanding this stuff, using it and explaining it to others. I had little idea of what was going on.

I sought out the people in charge and the files. The files were supposed to be locked up. I didn’t know the combination. One of those in charge confessed to me that the locks didn’t work. They were a facade. She laughed as she explained this. As I tried catching up on my tasks and correct everything, I began learning through intimate encounters with others, nobody else knew what was going on. It was chaos with a veneer of normalcy and knowledge. Nobody else was doing it correctly. Most barely understood what I talked about and laughed when I mentioned it. A series of giggling confessions were shared with me to that end.

Understanding that I wasn’t going to be discovered because I was an inept fraud, I began relaxing. My errors and shortcomings weren’t going to be discovered because everyone else had shortcomings and were making errors. None of them cared about it.

Writing about them, I chortle with insight. Ah, yes, the classic dreams of inadequacy and our latent, perpetual fears of being exposed as a fraud. Do writers ever experience anything like this? I suppose not. Most writers are powerhouses of security and self-confidence.

I should just move on. I would, but I feel too tired. I need to sleep to recover from my dreams.

Now there’s a metaphor if I’ve ever read one.

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2 thoughts on “Dreams of Ineptness

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  1. “Most writers are powerhouses of security and self-confidence.”

    Excellent use of sarcasm there. 🙂

    Most writers, if they appear to be powerhouses of security and self-confidence, are just making use of their skill at Making Stuff Up to make themselves seem secure and confident to everyone else.

    Actually, I think that applies to most people, at least the reasonably smart ones. (Dunning-Kruger Effect: it’s not just for academic topics.) They see how far they are from their goals, so they think they’re inept even though they’re WAY ahead of the majority. (On the other hand, there are also people who think, ‘I can haz write a book?? lol!!!!! I wish I would of wrote a book sooner, this is so eazy………..!!!’ and then proceed to flap their fingers at the keyboard like an inebriated chimpanzee, supremely confident in their own brilliance.)

    Like

    1. Thanks. I can do sarcasm on some occasions.
      I know most people experience such self-doubt but such reminders are useful. It’s astonishing to read biographies of my heroes and discover their self-doubts. One of my favorite takes on this was Alec Baldwin as Jack Donaghy on Thirty Rock, psyching himself up in a mirror.

      You’re pretty good with sarcasm, too. Thanks for reading and commenting. You provided me with more to think about. Yeah, just what I needed.

      Liked by 1 person

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