Waking Up in the Wrong Direction

I knew my eyes were closed. I could feel my eyelids fluttering as light and strange images flashed through my mind.

I didn’t want to open my eyes. Not for fear of what I might see, but because an awful buzzing sound resonated through my skull. It was getting louder, compelling me to wonder where I was.

A train, yes, that’s it. I’m on a train. I can hear the sound of metallic wheels rolling along a track. My body jostled with the movement of the train rounding a curve, wheels screeching against the rails. I don’t know how fast the train was moving, but it seemed as smooth as a bullet entering butter.

Butter? Suddenly I remembered eating a piece of toast with tasty, creamy, pale yellow butter. I had to open my eyes. "OH MY GOD!" I screamed inside my head. What had happened?

The interior of the train cabin was a mess. Broken dishes and glasses littered the floor; some of the windows were broken. Where are the people? I thought I saw a body in the corner slumped over. Did I dare walk over and investigate?

As I continued to come to my senses, I felt compelled to call for help. Where’s the call button? I threw my gaze up and around, searching for it. I pressed it several times to no avail. Then I realized my body was hurting and noticed its awkward angle squished into the seat. I tried to stretch out gently but it hurt more. Carefully, I inspected my hands, fingers, arms, legs, and feet to look for injuries. My clothes were intact. I didn’t have any visible wounds, but I ached as if I had been thrown against the wall by a mighty force.

Stymied with confusion, I looked around to see if I had a ticket or a train schedule. Nothing. No paperwork. Where’s my purse? No purse. Backpack? None. Luggage? It was odd to not see any suitcases on the overhead shelf.

It was getting stranger as I comprehended the oddities of what I was seeing and discovering. Meanwhile, I glanced out the window to see if I could recognize the landscape. Trees, grass, no buildings. The sky was still blue with a few clouds. I guessed it could be late afternoon, breezing through some unfamiliar countryside.

Why couldn’t I remember where I was going? Surely, if I’m on a train that just experienced some sort of mishap or, worse, an explosion, I would still have a recollection of how I got on this train. The why’s and where’s were not adding up. I must’ve hit my head pretty hard not to remember.

I managed to urge my body to stand up, albeit wobbly, I grabbed the headrest next to me. I took a clumsy step toward the aisle. The train veered on a curve just then, and I almost lost my balance. As we entered a tunnel, I looked out the window, and everything went dark.

I waited until it passed. Looking towards the back of the car, I saw a toilet sign. I stepped through the broken mess on the aisle floor and made my way to it. Slamming the door shut behind me, I looked in the mirror. My face looked haggard as if I hadn’t slept in days. Splashing water on my face, I seemed to perk up a bit. I looked down at the toilet but didn’t have to throw up even though I felt nauseous.

Stepping outside the toilet to the aisle, my eyes searched in vain for signs of human life. What I thought earlier was a slumped body was some disheveled coats and luggage in a pile. I made my way to the front of the car, towards where it joined the next car. The door was locked or jammed; I don’t know which, but it wouldn’t open. I couldn’t see any movement in the car ahead of the one I was in.

That’s when I realized how fast the train was moving.

What the hell was going on?

I searched around, looking for a cell phone. I pressed several more call buttons. I even rifled through a piece of luggage that was not mine. The only items that the luggage contained were a coloring book and crayons. Very strange.

I ran to the back of the car to see if that door would open. It would not. I panicked and hit the glass window with my fist, yelling for help. "ANYBODY! HELP! ANYBODY HERE?!" I screamed as loud as my raspy voice would allow.

I was only met with silence apart from the sound of the fast-moving wheels.

I knew I couldn’t jump off this train. It was moving way too fast to make a safe landing. What to do?

A weird idea popped into my head. I pondered for a moment if there’s a way to get onto the roof. I looked for a roof portal door of some sort. Up and down, my eyes searched for anything with a handle on the roof that I could try and open. My desperation was making my heart pump loud in my ears.

The wind was whipping through two broken windows. The thought was depressing at the possibility of having to jump out of a window. I couldn’t muster the courage to do so. My anxiety was peaking as I was freaking out at the train speed, thinking there was no conductor up front to stop it. Gah! It didn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon. I had to get off of this train.

And then it hit me.

I must be in a dream state. This couldn’t be real. I sat back down in my seat and closed my eyes. I tried to soothe myself by saying, “it's only a dream,” with the vague hope of waking up soon.

I must’ve stayed that way for an hour at least, or so it felt. Time was irrelevant at this point.

All at once, there was a loud "whoosh!" sound permeating the entire train car. I didn’t feel my body move nor my eyes open. I felt as if in a trance.

I woke up only to realize I was lying down somewhere. Seeing a woman’s face smiling at me took me a moment to adjust.

It was then I recalled where I was. I had been having a hypnosis session with a past-life regression therapist. I had gone to her because of my phobias and anxiety. She said to me, “Martha, it’s okay. You are feeling better. Take your time, relax, feel yourself in your body.”

I replied, “Wow, I don’t know where I went, but I sure had an adventure!”

She nodded. “Well, I have to tell you something. I don’t think you went as deep as you were supposed to be. You most likely experienced what we call a “waking dream”.

“Huh? What’s that?” I asked, perplexed.

“In medical terms, it’s called a hypnagogic hallucination. When you first start to go under, your subconscious becomes highly active. Before I could get you in deeper, you had this subconscious experience while in a sleep state.”

“Why do you think that happened?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I can tell you it’s more common than not. About 37% of people experience it as they fall asleep, incurring a visual and/or auditory hallucination. Sometimes it's related to having narcolepsy. Tell me, what did you see or hear?” She asked with calm concern.

“Well, I, uh, thought I woke up on a train, actually. I really thought I was on a train at that moment. Only thing was that there was no one else there with me. And the train was speeding out of control.

“Oh, no!” She exclaimed. “It sounds a bit frightening.”

“It was at first,” I said, thinking back to vague images.

“Tell me more so we can understand what you experienced”.

I looked around the room furtively, wondering if I should rehash such a raw experience. “Ok,” I said, “I’m not sure it will make sense, but this is what I felt. I woke up on a train feeling like I had been through an ordeal–as if I had been in an explosion. My body was aching and heavy, but I was not wounded. I was trying to wake up, find people, and figure out where I was and where I was going. The doors were locked. A couple of windows were broken. And some coats and luggage were there but were not mine. I had no ticket, no backpack, nothing that would help me remember where I was or how I got there. It was strange.”

She patted my hand assuredly. “We can make sense of what you saw in a symbolic way to help you understand what your subconscious was telling you. It correlates in an abstract way with what is going on in your life.”

I sat up and leaned forward to hear more. I wanted to hear this dream interpretation even if it wasn't about a past life.

“First of all, a speeding train can symbolize how you feel your life is out of control, or at least some aspect of it,” she said. “And there was no one there to help you with this. You felt trapped and couldn’t get out. You did everything you knew to do to get out but were stuck. The luggage with the crayons and coloring book symbolizes your early childhood creativity. Do you like to color?” she asked.

“Yes, I was an artist at a very young age. I loved to color and paint.”

She explained to me, “The symbolism could mean you ought to get in touch with the creative side of yourself.” I nodded in agreement.

The therapist explained each thing I saw, felt, or heard in detail. It felt reassuring to hear this. I knew I wasn’t losing my mind. I listened with rapt attention feeling alert.

The whole point of this self-discovery session was to find a new way to allay my anxiety and phobias. I thought past-life regression might be a novel way to uncover hidden facets of my psyche. That I might be able to glean some new insights into why I feel the way I do.

Instead, it unraveled a new way of looking at my feelings. It’s true I was in a fast-paced, mentally-demanding career that left me feeling drained on many days. The stress of the job began to take its toll. I had irrational phobias developing out of my control. For example, I was fearful of taking the bus to work. I thought it would crash. It got so bad I had to use a shared ride to make my way into the office.

Then there was the recent promotion I went for – and didn’t get. I felt depleted. Perhaps I hit that proverbial glass ceiling, which shattered my confidence. Like in the dream state depicting broken windows.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew I wanted to explore my buried creative side. Either through writing, drawing, or painting. Thus, the hidden luggage with a coloring book and crayons was a message from my subconscious to remind me to connect to the simple things in life. Things I once enjoyed in childhood.

All in all, this was not as traumatic an experience as it sounds. I learned some things about myself. I needed self-care and some attention to my mental health. I needed to travel. I needed to go someplace nice and relaxing and rejuvenate myself. I smiled happily at the thought because I knew I would definitely not be taking a train to get there.