I found this in my dream diary, back in 2014 –
I think I dreamt about my inner child last night. It was intense and beautiful, happy and sad. It must have been a message from my unconscious, or it was my inside truth telling me I’m on the right track and learning to nurture little me.
It’s a bit mushy in my head but as best as I remember it, it started with me being on a summer camp or some sort of camp, with children. I was part of the camp as a camper maybe age 16-18, not as a leader. The way you could differentiate was that the leaders wore camp T-shirts and we wore our own clothes. I introduced myself to a little girl, maybe 6 years old, with some learning disabilities. I got closer and closer to her as the dream went on and was caring for her really well, even though I wasn’t a leader. The leaders were impressed as she didn’t generally get close to people, but I seemed to be different and we warmed to each other quickly.
At one point I took her to the toilet as she needed to wee, she sat on the toilet but it was a small weird contraption and so the urine went everywhere on the floor and on her. I was calm and didn’t worry her, and I tidied it up as best I could and made sure I didn’t shame her. She felt looked after by me. I was trying to tidy up before anyone else saw as I was embarrassed I hadn’t helped her properly, or “well enough”. Suddenly a leader came in, though just a tiny bit older than me, and was disappointed to see what had happened. They’d thought of me as doing such a good job looking after the little girl for so long, but when she saw the mess in the bathroom, she said I shouldn’t have done that and should let the leaders take the children to the toilet. I felt a bit embarrassed and like I was just trying to help but maybe it was true my feet were getting to big for my own shoes and I couldn’t do everything on my own.
I took her out of the bathroom and we went back into the main areas where all the children played. I picked her up and cuddled her holding her head to my shoulder, and instead of age 6-8 she was now about 6 months old and just a baby. I held her and rocked her over my shoulder and comforted her after having cleaned her all up from the bathroom, making her feel okay. I walked around for a while with her on my shoulder sleeping and sucking her thumb and once again the leaders were impressed with how I was looking after her. Sometimes I was holding her over my shoulder to my chest and other times I was holding her in my arms so that I could watch her sleep and she could see me when she woke up.
In the next scene, she had turned from a typical looking 6 month year old into a new born child with a disability – the disability was that she was absolutely tiny despite being fully formed – like the size of my hand. She looked like a toy or a stick man or something and I held her in my hand as she was very ill and disabled and could neither move nor had normal cognitive abilities.
Suddenly her parents appeared at the camp. They seemed so loving and all at once, the tiny baby started to go red as her blood started to flow, her features became clearer and she got up, with her tiny human body, and started moving her limbs for the first time. Her parents were on their way out with their heads hung low at the state their daughter had been in. But as soon as she started moving I called after them to wait and they lit up as they saw her jumping around, making it towards the stairs and sprinting around like never before.
It was because her parents had come that she had come back to life. They thought she needed to be in care because of her illness (or in the camp) but the reason she was so ill was because she needed her parents to be around. Only then did she come alive and functional, and happy as a child should be. She had no disabilities anymore, the only thing “wrong” with her was her tiny size. She was still bright red and the size of my hand and a stick girl, like a cartoon character (but it’s hard to explain).
After she was outside and the parents had left, the leaders and I were so happy she was doing well. But shortly after they left, the parents turned evil and the mother hired a killer to kill all of us and her child. The killer was to do it by throwing stones at us. Though the child was so tiny, her red colour made her stand out in the grass where she was and the killer hit her straight away and then started trying to kill the staff as well.
The parents were ashamed of the child and didn’t want her, they believed there was something wrong with her, maybe she was cursed, and didn’t want to have anything to do with her despite her being alive and functional for the first time just moments before. So a strange change in attitude from the previous scene…
A few of us escaped and suddenly loads of children from camp were also being killed and the killers were attaching them to nooses and trapping them in trees. I had turned into a black child (random) and had realised what was going on. I hid behind bushes from the killer until I could get to the other children, and cut the chords to free first a little boy and then all the others I could save.
I had an “s” shaped symbol that I had to imprint on all the baddies to get them away, and I had to walk backwards because if I looked away then they’d kill me too. As long as I kept imprinting the symbol onto the killers and remain hypervigilant and somewhat sly, I was safe and could free the other children around me.
I need to start documenting my dreams properly again!