Dreaming About War

I’ve been having Holocaust dreams lately.  Not actual scenes of concentration camps or ghettos, but disturbing scenarios with enough related resonances  to let me know I’m in the territory–cozying up with the inherited terror of my family’s refugee/survivor history.

In one dream, my husband comes upstairs from the laundry room carrying a huge sack of clothes slung over his shoulder. Someone has stolen our brand new laundry cart, which I’d left downstairs.  I rant about the cost of a new cart and fret about not being able to trust our neighbors anymore.  In real life, the next morning, my husband reported that I’d cried out in my sleep, “What are we going to do?!!”

In another dream, I’m overseas at a huge conference center.  My flight home is in a couple of hours but I haven’t packed yet and can’t remember where my room is. I begin a race against the clock to find my room, get my stuff, and make it to the airport.  Nobody will help me, so I run around anxiously, in and out of buildings and through wooded paths.  Finally, I see some members of my group descending a giant staircase with their suitcases. “Wait for me!!” I cry, desperate not to be left behind, alone.

My guess is that these disturbing dreams are a reaction to the challenging, shall we say, socio-political climate and the stream of constantly conflicting, often jarring news. The current state of political upheaval and social uncertainty in the U.S. and around the world is definitely triggering my war-related feelings.  From what I hear on social media and elsewhere, I’m not the only one.

For me, the cascade of troubling information is like pouring acid on my early wounds and fears related to my family’s suffering during World War II.  My grandparents felt betrayed when their Polish neighbors looked away when Jews were targeted, blamed, forced from their homes, or killed on the spot.  So it’s no surprise that news of racism and religious/ethnic targeting leaves me dreaming about distrusting my own neighbors. When my grandparents fled Warsaw, they left hastily, departing on foot with what little they could carry.  When I hear news about deportations or refugees being refused entry, it easily stirs up dreams of frantically grabbing my stuff and racing to get out in time.

I wake from these dreams feeling jarred and uneasy, emotionally destabilized.  It’s much harder to make sense of present day situations when I’m in this state. My mind feels overwhelmed, frozen, and numb.  The news of the world dovetails neatly with the internal places I already struggle to feel safe, secure,  and welcome.

Such is the challenge of healing from war.  Wherever we’ve been hurt by war — through direct or inherited trauma, or even just learning about violence or oppression — becomes a place we are vulnerable to being triggered by current  events.  Anything with a whiff of similarity to our particular hurt can set off a chain of distressed feelings and thoughts that cloud our present day thinking, making it harder to understand and respond to today’s circumstances as they really are.

This is not a political or partisan condition. Anyone from any background, belief system or political leaning can be harmed by the harsh effects of war.  So it really doesn’t matter where you stand on what’s going on — just figure that at least some of what you’re thinking might well be the result of earlier, war-related emotional upsets.  With or without bad dreams, if you feel the urge to pack and run, rage at people who don’t think like you do, gloat and name-call, crawl under a rock until things calm down, or take any less-than-100%-rational action, chances are it’s not simply about the present.

In my experience, understanding this is a good first step toward healing those wounds, gaining clearer perspective and being able to respond to current challenges in a more proactive and positive way.  For me, it’s definitely a work in progress, but it does make a difference.