This Is A Nightmare...This Is Only A Nightmare

A frightening look inside my obviously warped mind...

When I was a little girl about 6 years old, my parents separated.  We moved out and for the first time I had my own room.  This was going to be GREAT! or so I thought.  I became terrified of my room.  I would flip the light switch and try to make it to my bed before the room became dark. My night light would cast long, ominous shadows against the wall and ceiling, scaring me to death. Finally I just moved my bed to right under the light switch.  I began having nightmares nearly every night.  Either me or my little 1st grade boyfriend, Bobby, or someone else I loved was being attacked by Dracula behind one of my grandparents barns.  I still don't venture behind that barn...and at the ripe old age of 36 (almost) I still do not watch vampire movies, aside from Twilight.  I've always believed that there is some sort of meaning to our dreams.  I sit and analyze them any time I have a dream or nightmare.  As I grew older I came to believe that the vampire dreams symbolized that my parents marriage was sucking the life out of me. lol...but really.
Last night, I had the most graphic, horrific nightmare I've had since I was 6.  This is the nightmare...

*read at your own risk- not for the squeamish*
Again...this is just a nightmare...

"I'm sitting on my couch feasting ravenously on some sort of meat.  I'm oblivious to all that is around me.  I startle to reality and realize that I'm devouring the head of a pre-term human infant. I'm instantly mortified by my actions.  I begin screaming and throw the head across the room, trying to get as far away from it as I can.  Still screaming my parents and my brother come in to see what is wrong.  I'm covered in blood and cannot be consoled.  My Dad and brother instantly begin to try to cover up my actions as they begin to dispose of the head.  My mother sits next to me on the couch and tries to comfort me but still I'm screaming.  I become nauseated, realizing what I've done and begin vomiting. In trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing, we determine that the baby is one that was the subject of an abortion that my mother performed in 1971.  As my family sits around trying to support and comfort me, I'm still sick to my stomach and shaking"

Then I wake up.  I'm still shaking and feeling horribly nauseated.  I cannot get the graphic images out of my head.  And then I begin struggling to find the meaning of the nightmare...surely there's got to be a reason my sick, twisted little subconscious decided to bestow these mental images upon me.

Fact 1) I am not a cannibal
Fact 2) No one in my family has ever had to conceal a crime that I've committed
Fact 3) My mother (to my knowledge) was not performing abortions in her early teens or any time before or after that for that matter.
Fact 4) My family has always been there to support and comfort me
Fact 5) I blame NO ONE for my PCOS...crap happens

My Interpretation:  The death of the infant is symbolic of my fertility.  As the doctors seem to think, I've eaten my way in to never having a baby.  I've been told repeatedly that if I don't lose weight and get pregnant by the age of 36 (in 4 days) then I never will.  While my family has always been a support for me, I've done this to myself.  My subconscious blames my mom since it is likely from her family line that I've gotten the PCOS gene.  I have no idea of the significance of the year 1971.  It was the year my husband was conceived...maybe it symbolizes his fertility dying as well??

Crap, I don't know.  I just know that I woke with the WORST feeling ever...sick, profoundly sad and heartbroken...looking for reasons why...

Hopefully y'all don't think I'm crazy since I cant control my subconscious.  this has seriously made me sick all day. Is it the anxiety of turning 36 in a few days?  I just don't know.  I pray to God that this awful nightmare doesn't repeat itself and I can actually get a restful sleep tonight.