Why Do I Keep Dreaming About Jim Carrey?

What a mystery! I can’t figure it out. Going back to March 27, 2011, when I blogged, Jim Carrey’s Massage, to November 7, 2012, when I blogged Jim Carrey Asks Me to Meet Him In The Church, I have had enough dreams about Jim Carrey to wonder why I keep dreaming about the man. I even interpreted one of Jim Carrey’s Dreams for him (he didn’t ask). And though his name doesn’t appear in the title of this blog, Ringo Starr and the Consignment Shop, Jim Carrey makes an appearance in that dream as well. 

So what is going on inside this brain of mine?

A couple of years have passed since my last dream about him, so I was surprised early this morning to awaken to yet another dream about Jim Carrey. In this dream, I was to appear on Ellen with a bunch of other people. Jim Carrey was among those other people. Jim and I were immediately attracted to each other, and we sat next to each other and talked for quite a while (can’t remember about what).

My mind can’t remember the transition between where we were sitting and where we were suddenly sitting, but we are now reclining on lawn chairs near a pool when he, very loudly, starts making what sounds like, “eeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” Everybody around the pool hears him, but I figure, he’s Jim Carrey, so they’ll understand. 

But the sound he makes reminds me of a friend I had when I was a kid who would get so involved in whatever she was doing, she would make that same sound, oblivious to everyone else around her, and I told him about her. I said that I felt she was in a kind of meditative state when she made those sounds. He wanted to know why I was comparing his meditation technique to hers when she was obviously playing. I had to explain that because she was so completely involved in what she was doing, she was able to filter everything else out, probably by making that sound.

Before we could finish our conversation, Ellen’s staff called us over to another room where we would wait to get our makeup and hair done. Jim got up first and walked over to what looked like a large waiting room filled with several couches. Something prevented me from leaving right away (can’t remember what) and by the time I got to the couches where everyone was sitting, I noticed that every available space, with the exception of one, was filled with people, and I was disappointed that I couldn’t sit near Jim. He looked disappointed that I couldn’t sit near him too, so I sat next to another guy who immediately began conversing with me.

The rest of the dream involved myriad other random somethings – standing in the hair and makeup room waiting to get my hair and makeup done, which I thought was weird, considering the show wasn’t going to be taped until the following day, walking down halls of an enormous building and getting lost, accidentally walking into a room where a 10-year-old boy was lying face down on a bed, and when I apologized and left his room, he left to find me and eventually found me sitting on the floor of one of the giant rooms in the giant building, where I was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of children.

So WHY do I keep dreaming about this man? Who or what does he represent for me? Obviously my subconscious is trying to tell me something about him. In some of the dreams he is rude to me, so does he represent my ex? But the attraction to him in my dreams is powerful (used to be with my ex), so does he represent my ex? Before I even finished asking that last question, I knew the answer was no. But what then? Hmm, maybe the answer will appear in a future dream ;)

Kidnapped and Held Prisoner

In this dream one of my daughters was renewing her wedding vows. Funny how things seem so “natural” in dreams. If she had told me she was renewing her vows in “real life” I would have been curious as to why she was renewing them since she hasn’t been married for two years yet. 

As I walked down the aisle (from the front of the enormous hall), I noticed that nobody had left me a seat, so I had to find one for myself in the back. The hall looked similar to either a very large college cafeteria room where tables were replaced with pews, or a very large but non-churchy church. 

By the time I got to my seat I remembered that I had forgotten my camera, so I ran to get it and hoped to return in time to get some great pictures.

That was when I was kidnapped and brought to a basement of what I thought might be an abandoned building, though it likely could have been the same building where the wedding and reception were taking place. I remember other people being around when I was kidnapped, almost as if they were part of a group being led by a travel guide, but I was afraid to let others know that the man who kidnapped me wasn’t my boyfriend or husband, and I was afraid to draw attention to myself by telling somebody I was being kidnapped.

Days and days, weeks and weeks, months and month went by. I don’t remember eating or sleeping during that time, but I must have slept, because one day I awoke to find another woman with us, kidnapped by the same man who kidnapped me years earlier. 

At least it seemed like years. And now he’d brought another woman into the cemented walls and floors, but I couldn’t talk to her, because I knew he would hear me. And then one day, shortly after she arrived, an elevator dropped in front of us. A well-dressed woman wearing a business suit came out of it and suddenly lots of people appeared from all around us holding an assortment of weapons to rescue the other woman and me. 

Though I was grateful to have been rescued, I berated myself for not coming up with a plan to escape before all those years went by.

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This dream at first was difficult to decipher, but when I realized that basements always have to do with our subconscious, and knowing how I’d felt trapped by my own feelings about a matter that has bothered me for years and years and years, I realized that I would have to be the woman in the elevator who came down to rescue myself and maybe by rescuing me I could rescue at least one other person, if she or he existed, who might have experienced the same devastation I did, though so far I appear to be the only one who has suffered from this problem.

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In an unrelated dream, I awoke one morning to a dream about a woman named Darla, who went by the name, Sugar Cube. (I can’t even begin to understand where that dream came from, though I have to admit, I Googled, “Darla” and “Sugar Cube” to see if anything showed up. Guess what – a band by the name of Porcelain And The Tramps sang a song called, Sugar Cube and the video was posted on YouTube by someone named darlaarsinoe. Coincidence? Or, as the title of this blog indicates, just weird?