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  • Writer's pictureLydia Lampert

Nightmares: Is the Universe Trying to Tell Me Something or Is It Just a Side Effect of the Lamictal?

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer. My dreams are in color. People talk. I see faces and what people are wearing, and when I wake in the morning I can recall minute details that astonish my husband. I love when I have good dreams, like the one I had once that Eminem was coming back after he finished his bus route to take me on a date, but I absolutely despise the nightmares, such as the one I had last night.

Last night I dreamt of trying to protect my children and four puppies from a tiger that was attacking. We were confined to a little white shed with flimsy sliding doors, and when I saw the tiger outside advancing, I quickly tried to close the doors, although I knew they would not offer much protection. The tiger roared outside the shed and busted right through the doors. I feared for the lives of my children, but the tiger left them alone, and preyed upon a black puppy in the right rear corner. He advanced on the puppy, picked him up with his paw and proceeded to rip the puppy’s head right off his body. I saw the exposed bloody area of the puppy’s body where the head had been removed and then saw the tiger holding the severed neck and blood vessels and bloody tissue hanging, and then I woke up.  I was completely disturbed by this dream.

After I drank my coffee this morning, I began researching the meaning. When I was younger I used to have a dream dictionary. I do believe in dream interpretation, psychics, horoscopes, having a sixth sense, déjà vu and ghosts.  I also used to have a set of Tarot Cards and a Ouija board as a teen, and let me not discount my Magic 8 Ball. Call me crazy, as many people do, but I just think there are much deeper meanings in the signs and messages the universe sends us. Anyway, I found some pretty interesting information which absolutely pertains to my life right now.

According to, “If you happen to dream you are being attacked or bitten by a tiger, it may symbolize repressed feelings.” Exactly why I am in therapy and on medications right now and probably will be for the rest of my life.  Also, “Seeing them in unusual settings may mean that your inner landscape has some things that need to be brought forward.” No kidding. I further read that, “If the animals are sick or aggressive, you may not be as happy with what you find within or going on around you.” I certainly am not happy with what I am currently finding, but I do have hopes that there is something bigger going on in my life and will eventually find some form of happiness and peace within myself, my diagnosis and my life.

I proceeded to look up black puppy and a puppy being injured, and found the following on… “A damaged baby animal, such as a puppy or kitten is connected with trauma in your life.”  Oh trauma, oh trauma, where for art though trauma? Let me count the ways I have been traumatized.

On the, “A black dog could be something hidden-the unaccepted side of yourself.” Although I am being told  and being treated for bipolar disorder, and putting the pieces together with regard to the same, I find myself unable to accept the fact that I may have to be on medication for the rest of my life, and angry at myself for not recognizing the blatant symptoms years ago.   I also found an interesting fact that Winston Churchill battled depression on that site and used to refer to it as “The Black Dog.”

On dreaming the, “A puppy in a dream represents a loved child. If it is a black puppy in the dream it means that he will grow to govern the household and to preside over its people.”  So what does it mean if the puppy was beheaded by a tiger? I can only believe the black puppy symbolizes my first born, Michael Joshua, who died one day later. The loss was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life thus far, and for some reason, I seem to be reliving it in one way or another everyday lately.

So is the universe trying to tell me something? Is there meaning that lies behind our dreams? From what I gathered this morning, it certainly seems possible. Or, it could just be the Lamictal, wreaking havoc on my psyche, but I am leaning the other way. I think someone, somewhere, is trying to tell me that with hard work, analysis and treatment, I will have sweet dreams someday. Who knows? One can dream, can’t they?

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